


InSanity

by Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Not so) Graphic Description of Torture, Author Is Not Creative, Basically this whole thing is a mess, Because the Author is fond of cliches, I mean very light, It's done holy shit, M/M, Many many Major Character Deaths, Scar Horcrux Tom Riddle can talk to Harry, Very Light mentions of Slash, You won't even notice it without it being outrightly pointed out, and heterochromia, emotionally unstable harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6049345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia/pseuds/Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Harry grew up in the (not so) tender mercies of the Dursleys. They have heavy fists and despicable mouths, and little Harry is the only one they let it out to. Of course, we all know how this could lead to a person's spiral into mental and emotional instability. It might have been fortunate (or unfortunate) that as little Harry grew up, Tommy was with him every step of the way. Who knew growing up with abusive relatives and having access to a psychotic sociopath's mind at a young age can change so much? Certainly, everyone is about to know, not that Dumbledore isn't even slightly aware.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, well, I decided to publish InSanity here as well, considering that the contents are rather... questionable... to the standards of ff.net and I decided that "hey, it's better to be prepared than sorry" if ff.net ever decided to start another Purge and InSanity happened to be one of the victims. Updates will be very erratic and if you want to read anything beyond the chapter posted here (which I do not know how many), please go to ff.net, it's until chapter 10 there.

_Harry_

**_Tom_ **

“Speaking”

_“Spells.”_

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Insane laughing echoed around the small cupboard as viridian green eyes briefly flashed red.

“Tommy said it’s fine. Tommy said it’s time~”

Harry Potter let out another laugh that slowly receded into spontaneous giggles as he caressed an ebony black wand in his hands with fascination and awe. He grinned maniacally as he heard the loud bang coming from above.

Harry giggled. “Dear Uncle Verny’s here. Finally-“ He let out another giggle. “Finally~!”

“BOY! Stop lazing around and get your freakish self out here!” It was followed by several bangs to the door to his cupboard.

Harry let out another giggle that went unheard by his dear uncle.

Harry had never felt so excited all his life. Well, that is unless you add the time he went to Hogwarts for the first time and to find out that he could learn about magic. Magic is so wonderful! He could do all sorts of things that he could dream of! And Tommy was proud of him too!

The thought of his Tommy brought out a bright smile from Harry who still ignored the loud bangs on his cupboard door. He was not worried about Uncle Verny, and besides, thinking of his dear Tom Tommy is far more important. Far, far, far more important than his ugly Uncle Verny who, in his personal opinion, looked far better with his entrails decorating the walls or, Harry thought excitedly, made into a necklace hanging around Aunt Petty’s very long neck! Obviously it needed to be preserved in a glass case for all to see. It would make for a wonderful display!

Harry had always wanted to see all of these happen in real life, not just in his mind, but Tommy said he needed to wait until he can protect himself properly. Harry always got sidetracked because of Dumblydora’s game and some of the other subjects that he found very interesting, but Tommy still managed to make him be interested enough to also search for any ways to protect himself. He had a sneaking suspicion that Tommy prodded his mind about that but he didn’t care. Tommy only looked out for him.

And now. Now, now, now, now. He let out a giggle. Now he can finally set things straight! No more enduring anything other than eating, sleeping, and taking care of personal matters inside this wretched house! Unfortunately, Tommy still doesn’t allow him to use his Uncle Verny as decoration. He pouted. Well, at least he found an alternative that was fine with both him and Tommy.

“BOY!” The enraged roar was followed by his cupboard door being wrenched open. He was met by the angry red face of his dear uncle. Harry wrinkled his nose slightly, thoughts of how much blood must be rushing to his uncle’s face to make it go red like that ran around in circles inside his mind as his uncle yanked him out, making him fall to the ground with a thud.

**_Attack him, Harry._ **

A blood-thirsty smile spread across his red lips as Tommy gave him permission.

Without the hesitation that his façade possessed, Harry swiftly punched his dear uncle in the face, temporarily stunning the man. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust as he felt his uncle’s fat face and maybe a bit of his saliva. Ew. He would need to wash his hand later. Preferably with his relatives’ blood.

**_That would make your hands even dirtier than it already is._ **

Harry mentally stuck his tongue out. _I do what I want, Tommy._

**_Stop calling me Tommy._ **

_No._

Their conversation was stopped when Harry heard a screeching noise that he thought came from two vehicles colliding—oh. It was his Aunty.

Harry looked up the stairs and grinned at his Aunty Petty’s pale, ugly form.

“FREAK! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

Harry was rubbing his ears by the time his Aunty was finished. He felt his glasses crack.

“SHUT UP!”

Silencing wards were activated around the house. He silenced his Aunty as well. Harry changed his mind. Aunty Petty was not a horse; she’s a very ugly fork that has a voice that equals that of a fork being scratched to a blackboard. He shuddered. Yes, no need to insult a relative of Unicorns by comparing Ugly Aunty Petty with them. If she were an animal, she would be a whole new specie.

He sent a tripping jinx to his Aunty who was glaring accusingly at him, causing her to fall down the stairs and making her unconscious upon the harsh impact.

“Ickle Duddykins is the only one missing for a family bonding~” He sung.

Harry skipped his way to the second floor, deliberately stepping on his Uncle and Auntie’s unconscious bodies. He passed his bedroom that was full of locks with a cat flap as entrance for his food. He rolled his eyes as he remembered—actually, he really can’t remember any food passing through that. Just as well that Uncle Verny never installed it there.

He felt a flash of anger from where Tommy usually stayed in his mind whenever he’s not asleep.

_Tommy, not that it’s not cool, but stop making my eyes flash red whenever you interact with me. Dumbydoor almost caught it one time. And Ronnickins. And Hermyger. And Gin-gin. And-_

**_I get your point, so stop enumerating them. And it isn’t something I can control. I’ve been stuck with you for a long time now that my magic, scarce as it is, has been absorbed by your soul._ **

_That’s why I’m half mad as I am._

He whistled a random tune he heard when he passed a funeral earlier that summer as he made his way to Ickle Dudders’ room.

He grinned as he reached his destination. His mind fought on whether he should let Duddykins sleep on or to wake him up. With a nod that is far exaggerated than needed to be, Harry pushed the door open forcefully, ripping it off its hinges and creating a loud bang that startled the occupant of the room.

Harry shouted jovially with a grin that showed too much teeth, waving his hand widely. “Good morning Big D!”

Dudley jumped up, pushing a bottle that suspiciously looked like alcohol under his bed, forgetting that he was still holding a pack of cigars.

Harry frowned depreciatingly. “You know, Big D, cigarettes aren’t good for your health. Does Aunty Petty know?”

Dudley seemed to have realized who just entered his room and he turned red, much like his father did. Harry merely smiled cheerily.

“I take it she doesn’t? Too bad. She would have scolded you then you would place the blame to me then she would blame me then I would tell the truth as I know it, not that she would believe me, then she would be angry then she would screech about how my freakishness affects her precious Dudders then  Uncle Verny would hear and get angry then I would get another beating then I would be locked up in either my cupboard or my bedroom-“

He was cut off by a glass bottle colliding with his head. The bottle broke and the cuts on his forehead started to bleed. Harry’s smile froze as he stared in blind fascination at the shattered bottle on the floor as if it was a particularly interesting piece. Not even Diddikins’ shouts snapped him out of his trance.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a drop of blood fell to the ground and Harry watched it fall down.

Red bled over green as Harry felt Tommy get angry. No, not angry. Tommy was furious. As furious as he always was whenever he received one of his ‘punishments’.

Harry let Tommy control his body and watch as a sickeningly red jet of light hit Dudley, promptly making the blond scream. Harry had gotten much harsher blows than being hit by a glass bottle. And Tommy didn’t control his body just to punish the one who did it.

As fast as it started, Harry felt himself be in control of his body once again, ending the curse as well as the screaming, leaving Dudley a sobbing, whimpering mess.

**_It wasn’t that I didn’t. It was because I couldn’t. The resurrection of Voldemort, or rather, the contact with his magic, may have strengthened me a bit. I can only do this for a few seconds, though._ **

Harry nodded happily as his Tommy explained. Then he turned to Dudders’ twitching form.

“Does it feel good, Big D?” Harry asked, grinning. “To me, it does. Do you know what it’s called?” Harry sauntered over him and used his bare foot to roll the body. He bent down and caressed Dudley’s cheek. “It’s the _cruciatus_ curse. One of the Unforgivables. Still don’t know the real impact of it?”

Harry summoned a spider from the corner of the room and promptly enlarged it, doing all of this without even removing his gaze from Dudley’s terrified ones.

“ _Imperio._ ” Intoned Harry as he made the spider crawl all over Duddykins. He stopped the spell and grinned. “That one can make it possible for me to control the mind and make the victim do whatever I want. Don’t worry, I won’t use it on you,” A thoughtful expression crossed his face before nodding to himself. “Yet.”

Harry giggled at the horrified expression on Dudley’s face. “There’s another one but I don’t think I want to ruin the surprise.” He let the spider scuttle away in its enlarged form. The thought of muggles spotting the spider made him laugh madly. He forced himself to calm down as he would not be able to accomplish anything if he continued like this.

He levitated Dudley, an occasional giggle leaving him as his excitement grew. “C’mon Dudders. Uncle Verny and Aunty Petty are waiting for us downstairs for our family bonding!”

Harry bounced his way down, purposefully bumping Dudley on the railings.

Once he reached the first floor, he was met once again by the angry face of Uncle Verny who was holding his bleeding nose. Broken, most likely.

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT NOW FREAK!”

Harry watched in curiosity as his uncle turned a darker shade of red. Harry wondered if he could die because of- wait, right, it is possible. His uncle _is_ obese and is prone to high blood pressure. That was what the muggle doctors said. So if because Uncle Verny was obese and is capable of dying because of high blood pressure, then Aunty Petty is the opposite-

**_Stop losing track of your surroundings, Harry._ **

_I do not lose track of my surroundings!_ He proved this by hitting Vernon, who was about to attack him again, with a stunning spell. A loud thud was the result and Harry giggled slightly.

“Let’s go to the kitchen Dudders!” He then hopped over his uncle’s body and deposited the limp, but not unconscious, form of Dudley Dursley on the kitchen table.

Making sure that his capti- ehem, his cousin can’t escape, he skipped to the living room. Using his wand for the first time, he directed his magic to the television and made it etch runes around so it would show what he was seeing. He turned it on with a flick of his wrist and his eyes lit up in confusion when he saw the endless image in the screen that was bound to happen when you place two mirrors in front of the other.

“Agh, bloody confusing!” To avoid this, he looked away, satisfied that it was working. He wondered why he chose to do this when he could have just went with the easy way, meaning, have his uncle and aunt bound and gagged while he did… _stuff_   in front of them.

**_Because you liked to boast that you can make your magic cooperate with muggle technology. And do you realize just how misleading it is when you said ‘stuff’?_ **

Harry chose to ignore the witty reply and went back to work. He levitated his Aunt and Uncle and dropped them on the couch, facing the television. He bound them on their position, cackling madly as his uncle was upside down and his aunt was on top of his uncle. Of course only their head could move so they can scream curses or plead or beg. Whatever the hell they want. Although, maybe he should make them unable to shut their eyes… yup. The sting it would create is an added bonus.

Satisfied with his work, he cast a _Renervate_ to the adults and grinned as both of them started screaming profanities.

“You don’t need to shut up.” Harry said happily, bouncing with excitement. So close. He was so close. “Just be sure to watch~” He gestured to the television that showed what he was seeing.

He then disappeared only to appear inside the kitchen. He didn’t need to close the door. He didn’t even want to so he could hear his Uncle and Aunt and then they would also hear Dudley. Humming happily, Harry conjured a blindfold and tied it on his eyes first. Let them stew for a while.

He grinned. Raising his hand, he cast a curse.

“ _Crucio.”_

Dudley screamed and screamed. He could also hear Aunty Petty scream for him to stop. She probably knew what it could do. He was slightly lost to the euphoric feeling of both casting the curse and the screams.

“BOY! STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING!”

Harry answered with an insane laugh as he removed the blindfold. If they were already that loud, what more if they could see what he is doing?

He stopped the curse and he heard Aunty Petty sobbing pleads to stop.

Harry hummed as Dudley twitched and whimpered. He grabbed his blond hair and yanked it up.

“You sound pitiful, Big D. Do you need help?” Harry wrinkled his nose as the stench hit him. “Ew. Did you just? That’s… Merlin you _are_ pathetic!” He waved his hand and vanished the mess his cousin made.

Harry let go of him and retrieved a potato peeler from one of the drawers. “You know, because of Aunty Petty, I became quite skillful in the kitchen.”

He proceeded to use it to skin Dudley’s cheeks. He was glad that he had enough control to only peel off the skin, exposing the muscles. At least, it won’t be causing that much of a mess since if he _did_ peel off even the muscle-

Oh.

**_I told you not to lose track…_ **

_Shut up._

He healed the part that he managed to peel the muscle as well, only to peel off the skin again, this time doing it correctly. He ignored all the shouts as he merrily did his work, humming.

Once he was done, only the eyelids, lips, and ears had skin. They were too delicate to peel off and not leave it bleeding.

“Now your face looks all muscley~!” Harry laughed as the tears and snot Dudley was creating only added to the pain. Harry stood up to admire his work. “Maybe we should do it to your whole body?” Harry spent a few seconds staring, waiting for a reply although his playmate was too exhausted to move.

“NO! NO! STOP IT!”

Harry laughed as he heard Aunty Petty’s scream. “No? Really?” Harry pouted. “Well…” Dudley almost had a look of hope but Harry laughed cruelly. “I don’t need to listen to any of you.”

Harry delightedly banished all of his cousin’s clothes, leaving him naked for all to see.

“Relax,” Harry said in a calm voice that his eyes betrayed as it flashed with insanity and childish glee. “If you struggle, I’ll eventually cut the muscle as well and then I’ll have to repeat it to get it right…”

Harry started his task, occasionally nicking the delicate tissues just for kicks. Harry let out spontaneous giggles that filled the silence as Aunty Petty sobbed, Uncle Verny stewing in silence as he realized nothing he said would do anything, and Ickle Duddykins finally lost his voice from screaming.

Suddenly, Harry stopped.

Aunty Petty let out a horrified gasp as she saw why her nephew stopped.

“Dudders…” Harry cooed condescendingly. “You’re rather small… small enough to-” Harry snapped his fingers as he had an epiphany, ignoring the renewed pleas he can hear from the living room. Then he hurried over to a drawer and excitedly pulled out a butcher knife.

Harry grinned at the look of pure terror on Dudley’s face as he realized what his cousin is going to do.

“We’re doing a sex transplant!” declared Harry with a bright smile. “Well, not exactly transplant… I don’t know how you call it but, well, you get the idea right? Of course you do.” He merely laughed at his Aunty and Uncle’s futile screeches.

“THE NEIGHBORS WOULD HELP US! THEY SHOULD! WE’LL GET YOU FOR THIS, FREAK!”

 “No one would help you, Uncle.” He let out another giggle as he tried to find the right angle for his task. He frowned as he can’t get a good angle without touching it. And that would be very disgusting. He would want to scrub his hands with hot coals first then wash it with lava before he even deemed it tolerable enough to look at. “Ah! Tweezers!” He conjured one and used it to grab the foul object, raising it up and positioning the huge knife as close as it can near the balls. “It has been, what, more than an hour and no one is even knocking. The wonders magic can do…” _And Tommy of course._

**_Good to know you remember me._ **

_Aww, I’ll never forget you Tommy._

**_Just don’t touch that little bit of the pig you, unfortunately, call cousin._ **

Harry scrunched up his nose in disgust, his hand steadily holding the admittedly heavy butcher knife. _Ew. I would never._

“So, cuz, we do it the fast way or the slow way?”

Dudley barely managed to shake his head as wave upon wave of stinging pain washed steadily through him. He was lucky enough that Harry didn’t start with his back and rear yet. But his whole torso was now only a grotesque image of muscles and tissues, smears of dried blood adding to the stinging as cells tried in vain to repair the damages done.

“Fast?” Harry looked unsurely before he shrugged. “Okay, I would have preferred the slow way though. We have a lot of time in our hands anyway.” His grin turned blood thirsty as he swung the knife, chopping the offending flesh cleanly off.

There were a few milliseconds of delay before Dudley let out a silent scream and Harry laughed as blood sluggishly poured out of the severed flesh, the red liquid running down his cousin’s arse and then on the table and finally on the pristine tiles. Sticking his tongue out in disgust at the flesh, he threw it to a random direction, his magic transferring it to his uncle and aunt who both screamed at the sight of the flesh.

**_If you don’t stop the flow of blood, he might die of blood loss._ **

Harry was snapped out of his daze as his Tommy talked to him. _Right._

Harry threw away the tweezers where it landed with a click on the floor. He then used his magic to heal the heavily bleeding organ enough to stem the flow of blood but not enough that it would close up.

Harry nodded in satisfaction. “There, you should live longer.”

“Harry, Harry, please. Please stop this. I’m-we’re sorry—“

Harry cut it off, for the first time, his anger was visible to his face. “YOU’RE SORRY? YOU’RE SORRY?! WOMAN, I WOULD HAVE BELIEVED THAT IF YOU SAID THAT TEN YEARS AGO!” _Ten years ago, when I haven’t met Tom yet._ “BUT NOW. NOW! JUST BECAUSE YOUR PRECIOUS DUDDERS BECAME THIS SNIVELLING MESS… YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK!”

“Now listen here boy! We’ve clothed you, we fed you, and we even put a roof on your head! THIS IS NOT HOW YOU REPAY-“

“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”

Harry’s face was flushed with anger, his eyes blazing with hate and scorn. It was in this moment that his madness was visible in his face. Can’t they understand? Of course they can’t. It wasn’t them who felt the loss. It wasn’t them who felt neglected. They weren’t the ones who _suffered_.

**_Calm down Harry. This is why you’re doing this, right? To put a stop to it and to make them suffer as well._ **

Harry took a deep breathe to calm himself down. That’s right. Even if he can’t eliminate the cause, he can still put a stop to it. The damage had been done but Tommy’s always been there for him.

_Right. You’re right._

Harry faced Dudley with a wider grin than before. “That’s right. You’ll suffer from pain. They’ll suffer with you as well.”

Harry dropped the butcher knife and grabbed the potato peeler once more. He delighted in the silent whimpers and hoarse pleas coming from the pig as he continued removing skin on his cousin’s thighs, then going down his legs, leaving his feet for now.

He let out a noise of triumph as he finished his task. He threw the knife away, not caring where it landed, although he did hear a distinct crash of breaking glass. Oh well.

Harry stepped away to admire his work.

Dudley, in Harry’s opinion, looked a bit better than he did with skin. Though he still looked a lot like a walrus like his father, the brownish tinge the muscles on his face as the cells succeeded to cover it a bit from infection clashed horribly with his blond hair. It _would_ look far better with red, Harry mused. Too bad that the blood around his crotch already clotted and the ones on the floor was already dried.

Harry tapped his bottom lip with his index finger in thought. “What to do, what to do…” He glanced over the sniveling figure of his cousin before his eyes landed on the cabinet that contained spices. “That’s right! What would roasted pig taste like without spices?” Harry giggled as he made his way to the cabinet.

“Saffron? No. Parmesan cheese? A bit but no. Rosemary…? Oh, that would taste good but I don’t think Dudley likes it… Mustard-what? Why is this even here? And… toilet cleaner… shaving cream?! Merlin, I’ve been inside my cupboard for only a week and this is what happens?!” Harry ranted as he searched. “Oh! Here it is! Oh, no, wait. This is Cumin… Here it is!” Harry pulled out a jar and closed the cabinet. He grabbed a teaspoon on his way. “It’s time to spice things up Big D!” Harry cackled.

He set down the jar where Dudley could see it. “Chili powder ought to do it!” Chirped Harry. “And maybe…” He grabbed another jar from the counter. “Salt, yes… these would do.”

“First in the recipe!” Harry opened the jar of salt and used the teaspoon to scoop some. He stared at the amount he scooped up and frowned. “This is not enough…” His eyes darted between the jar and the teaspoon. He shrugged and threw away the emotional range of Ronald Weasley. He giggled at the thought, he heard Hermione muttering it under her breath countless times over the years.

Harry grinned at Dudley before unceremoniously tipping the jar upside down just above Dudley’s stomach.

Dudley made a high pitched noise as soon as the salt made contact with the exposed tissues. Harry cackled with glee and enthusiastically rubbed the salt on the exposed flesh. When the entire torso was covered with salt, Harry pinched a bit of it and sprinkled it over the bloody groin. He jumped away, startled, when Dudley thrashed in pain.

His mouth stretched in a silent scream and face contorted in pain. Harry stared at it in fascination as he held out his hand to caress his cheek. It had only added to the pain, Harry noted happily.

Harry pulled his hand away and cleaned it on his too big shirt that had smudges and spatters of blood when he didn’t notice that it made contact with it. He wasn’t satisfied as he could still feel a bit of the powdery substance on his hands so he washed it with water, wiping it on his shirt again. He grabbed the unopened jar of chili powder and tapped it with his finger.

 “Next is the spicy thing we call the chili powder! It would have been better if we had the chili itself but… it’ll do.” Harry opened the jar and scooped some on his finger and tasted it. He hummed at the taste. “It tastes good too, though Treacle Tarts are waaayy better.”

He scooped some once more and looked for a place to rub it on. His eyes landed on the crying face of his cousin and he licked his upper lip in anticipation. He slowly sprinkled it around the face and laughed at the faces Dudley made. He sprinkled some more until he deemed it enough, not wanting to waste such a flavorful spice. Then he rubbed it around, enjoying the noises his cousin made.

“Pathetic.” He quickly pulled his hand away as Dudley attempted to bite it. “Ah-ah. You ain’t doin’ any eatin’, ya pig. An’ I ain’t doin’ any, either.” Harry giggled at his butchered attempt to imitate Hagrid’s accent. He lightly tapped Duddykins’ nose in admonishment before he stood up straight.

**_Harry, you should stop now. If you break him, you won’t have a much fun once you kill all of them._ **

Harry jumped in surprise. _Merlin, Tommy! Don’t scare the daylights out of me!_

Harry got the impression that Tommy was staring at him. Oh, well. He was right anyway. This… bonding session has served its purpose anyway.

“Now Duddykins, we’ll probably continue our game at a later time but Harry Potty—” Harry giggled at this. “Needs to finish some adult things.”

Harry quickly cleaned his hands and made his way back to the living room where his Aunty and Uncle never left their positions. He giggled. Of course they can’t, although Aunty Petty looked worse for wear. Her red, puffy, unblinking eyes were rimmed with tears and her wrinkles got more pronounced because of the stress. Uncle Verny looked like a good foot stool though.

He destroyed the television and repaired it, careful to prevent the runes he had etched to appear again. Once it was done, it was a normal television once more. He clapped his hands loudly to gain their attention.

Uncle Verny glared at him hatefully, beady eyes dilated with anger and face flushed yet pale with fear. Aunty Petty only looked on in defeat and fear. Harry grinned brightly at them and removed the silencing charm he put on them. As soon as he had done this, however, his Uncle exploded in roars of anger that had him casting the spell again.

“Dear Merlin, Uncle! Won’t you ever shut up?” Harry snapped, grin never fading away. “So anyway, I want a deal from you.” Here, he looked his uncle in the eye. “Basically, I want free reign. You leave me alone and Dudders won’t die. So, deal?”

He removed the spell once again.

“DEVIL! FREAK! YOU’RE AN ABOMINATION! NO WAY WILL I EVER MAKE A DEAL WITH YOU!”

Harry’s grin widened. “So you want your precious Duddykins to die? Well, that works for me, too.” He went to turn around but his aunt finally said something.

“VERNON SHUT UP! Please… Harry. I-We’d do anything to save Dudley. Please don’t kill him. Please…”

Harry looked at her, biting on his lower lip. “Really? But dear Uncle Verny here said no and isn’t he the one to create decisions here? Not you. Never you.”

“Please, Harry. What would your mother- what would Lily say-“

“Shut up woman!” Harry roared in anger, his magic flaring around the room putting pressure around them. “How dare- HOW DARE YOU SAY HER NAME! HOW DARE YOU EVEN SAY MY NAME WHEN YOU NEVER HAD BEFORE?! IT’S ALWAYS FREAK OR BOY! WHY USE IT WHEN YOU NEVER HAD! AND DON’T- DON’T YOU DARE DRAG MY PARENTS HERE! THEY’RE NOT HERE- NEVER HAD BEEN! IT’S ONLY—” He cut himself off, tears running down his flushed face. It was only Tommy who had been there for him. Not even his so called friends had been there for him. Not even Sirius. Not even the memory of his parents. It was only Tom.

“Please. Harry. Don’t kill Dudley.”

Harry didn’t know why but he found himself agreeing. They were pathetic. They were worthless human beings. But he still did. He could here Tommy say that he did the right decision to agree. He still needed to keep up his act and without the Dursleys, that wouldn’t be possible. He gathered himself and pasted another grin on his face.

“You’re going to a vacation for the rest of summer.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order comes~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, well, I felt like posting ch2... *smiles sheepishly*

_Harry_

**_Tom_ **

“Speaking”

“ _spells_ ”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry surreptitiously looked around as he absently watered the garden. It had been a week since he had sent his relatives away. A vicious grin nearly broke out his face as he remembered the state Dudley was in when they left but he stopped himself a he caught another movement at the corner of his eyes.

_Tommy, what say you about them?_

Harry carefully put down his head to hide the fact that his right eye turned red. He was glad that he finally had a semblance of control and only one eye turned red whenever he interacted with his Tommy. That had been a couple of months of hell to practice.

**_They probably came from the old coot’s merry band of flaming chickens._ **

Harry choked on his laughter and covered it with a cough. _Flaming chickens. Tommy, what?_

**_During the war, Dumbledore created a group much like my Death Eaters and equally as illegal. Your parents, I believe, were members of this. They called it Order of the Phoenix which is actually pointless as a Phoenix may as well be a symbol of Dark as it can be the Light._ **

_So Fawkes is their mascot? Makes sense._

Harry turned off the hose and proceeded to weed the garden. It had been decided that he would continue the ruse of his living conditions even if the Dursleys already left. Well, good thing he can use magic to clean the house inside and to keep an illusion if he didn’t feel like going out. It was just the times when he knew Mad-eye would be around that he wouldn’t dare using illusions. Or glamours.

Today was such a day, which is why he didn’t bother to put glamours over his eyes, just ducking so his eyes were out of view.

He went on with his day as he usually did and went to retire to his bedroom, instead of the master’s bedroom he claimed as soon as _they_ left. Well, he _did_ destroy the cupboard… to the point that the stairs were also burnt but, again, there was magic.

He was working on his Occlumency (Tommy said it was vital since Albino can read minds) when he was alerted by the wards he put around the house. Not that he won’t be alerted even if he did not put up wards. They were _noisy_.

There was a clutter downstairs, followed by cursing, before he decided that he should probably go down and check. It was probably the Order Tommy told him about earlier. He was quite sure that Ron and Hermione were with the Order if they weren’t able to disclose much information. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that there are things such as the Fidelius Charm. Thank Merlin for his random interest in warding and runes.

He quickly grabbed his wand—the Holly wand, not the other—and opened his door silently. He pointed his wand and walked as quietly as he felt like. Which wasn’t much because he was half tempted to do a jump scare at them. Their shrieking would be amusing. Alas, it wasn’t to be as he caught sight of just who was there.

“Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone’s eyes out.”

Harry already saw him but still pretended to be startled. He let a look of uncertainty flash through his face. “Professor Moody?” Harry almost giggled at the thought that he had never even taught them anything what with Crouch Jr. impersonating him.

“I don’t know about the ‘Professor’,” growled the voice, “never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly.”

Harry acted suspicious and uncertain while he still felt like randomly hexing them but refrained from doing just that. He lowered his wand but still held a tight grip to it. Not that he needed it. It seems that his acting was good as he heard the calm, slightly hoarse voice that he only ever associated to one person.

“P-Professor Lupin?” He let his voice quiver a bit. “Is that you?”

He didn’t like the man though. Sure, he’s his parents’ friend but he never got the chance to grow close to any of them. Only Tommy had been close to him. And the man, despite being a werewolf, a being of power, acted so weak. He hated the wolf inside of him and Harry could feel the echoes of loneliness coming from the wolf inside him.

“Why are we all standing in the dark?” said a third voice, this one completely unfamiliar, a woman’s. “ _Lumos._ ”

The wand lit up the room and Harry was able to see just who were there. He already recognized Lupin, Moody, and the bald black man that he was sure he had seen before but don’t know the name. They were all standing crowded near the foot of the stairs. Lupin stood nearest to him, a broad smile gracing his haggard and tired face.

“Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would,” said the witch who was holding her lit wand aloft. She looked the youngest here; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. “Wotcher, Harry!”

“Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus,” said the bald black man that looked familiar to Harry. “He looks like James.”

“Except the eyes,” said another that he didn’t care to notice as he was seething inside. “Lily’s eyes.”

Harry nearly let the sneer he was withholding as he heard this. He didn’t like it when anyone ever compared him to his parents. They thought he would be happy that they said it but it only made him seethe with anger. They weren’t even around for him to have any positive memory about them. And any want he had to know his parents were already killed by the Dursleys a long time ago. Someday, he would eventually kill all those who ever said that to him on his face. And that includes Dumbledore, Sirius, Lupin, Molly… practically everyone he was around. Maybe not Moody though. The man was fun to be around with his paranoia.

His thoughts were cut off with the suspicious growl of the before stated man.

“Are you quite sure it’s him, Lupin?” growled Moody and Harry almost snorted. “It’d be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?”

Harry choked on a laugh and hid it with a cough. He looked up to see Moody staring intently at his eyes, his magical eye boring holes on his forehead. He almost thought that Mad-eye was able to see through though he doubted that. That didn’t stop him from raising his shields around Tommy though. He knew very well that Tommy can hide his presence but it didn’t hurt to be cautious, right?

Lupin opened his mouth to ask something but Harry cut him off. “Who is Prongs to me?” asked Harry in a hesitant voice.

Lupin blinked before he answered. “Both your Patronus and your Father.”

Moody shifted his gaze over to Lupin and Harry smirked mentally as he successfully transferred a highly paranoid ex-auror’s attention to another.

“ _You_ ask the question, not the boy!” growled Moody as he glared at Lupin. “And you gave vital information out. If it were a Death Eater, what would you do?” Moody shifted his gaze once more to Harry. “What happened to me in the previous year?”

Harry shifted from foot to foot in an effort to make it seem he was uncomfortable. “Headmaster Dumbledore found you inside your own trunk, locked inside by Barty Crouch Jr. who was impersonating you with the use of polyjuice potion the whole of my fourth year.”

Moody stared for a while before he nodded in approval.

Harry walked down the stairs, still gripping his wand in his hand. Moody noticed this.

“Don’t even think about putting that in your back pocket, boy,” Moody lumbered over to the kitchen and Harry was reminded of the bonding session he had with his cousin. “Better wizards than you have lost their buttocks, you know?”

Harry saw at the corner of his eyes the witch roll her eyes. He nearly snickered out loud but thankfully managed to muffle it. Lupin seemed to have still heard this and sent a smile to him to which Harry sent a fake one back.

For appearance’s sake, Harry muttered. “You’re really lucky the Dursleys are out…”

Lupin merely gave him a questioning look which Harry ignored. Really, it had already been a _week_. They’re pretty much stupid. Harry really wished he could talk to Tommy right now just to make fun of them but he was pretty sure that having his eyes turn red randomly would be suspicious and not well received.

“What are you doing here?” asked Harry curiously even though he already knew.

Lupin smiled at him. “We’re here to take you away.”

Harry made his eye widen in shock and disbelief. “Y-You are?” whispered Harry in disbelief. “Yo-I- Thank you…”

“We’re going as soon as we’re given the all-clear.” Lupin continued. “And no, we are not going to the Burrow, Harry. Too risky, we’ve set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It has taken a while…”

As silence settled over them, Harry unwilling to break the stifling silence for them, Lupin cleared his throat.

“This is Alastor Moody,” Lupin pointed to Mad-eye.

“Yeah, I know. “ Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes as the introduced person took a swig off his flask.

“And this is Nymphadora—”

“— _Don’t_ call me Nymphadora, Remus,” said the young witch with a shudder. “It’s Tonks.”

“—Nymphadora Tonks who prefers to be called by her surname only.” finished Lupin.

“So would you if your fool of a mother had called you ‘Nymphadora’.” muttered Tonks.

Harry saw the subtle change of color in Tonks’ hair as she said this. He absently noted that she’s what the Wizarding World calls Metamorphmagus. If what he can observe is correct, she can control it at will but still slips up in her emotions. Harry just wondered what would happen if he skinned her. Would she still be able to change her skin? Or if he removed her scalp, would she still be able to grow and change her hair?

Lupin proceeded to introduce everyone else. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the man who looked familiar who he now remembered he had seen once in third year, one of the Aurors. Elphias Doge. Dedalus Diggle who he remembered shook his hand and congratulated him before he even knew why. Emmeline Vance. Sturgis Podmore. Hestia Jones.

Harry nodded to each of them, trying, and failing, to will them from looking to anything else aside from him. Although he was delighted to have a name to the two who were going to be added to his ‘Kick-the-Bucket’ list. Shacklebolt and Doge were added to it. It was getting rather long considering that pretty much everyone says it, aside from, oddly enough, the Slytherins who he deduced probably thought that it would be a compliment. Too bad for them, then.

“We still have about fifteen minutes before we leave.” growled Moody, removing the magical eye from its sockets and dropping it in a glass of water. “You better get your things now, boy.”

Harry nodded and made his way up, noting that Tonks followed him up. He played with the thought of playing with her before throwing it out the proverbial window; that would not result to good things. That did not stop a near silent giggle to come out of his mouth though.

**_I said stop losing track, Harry._ **

_Ooh, Tommy! I missed you for all of the twenty three minutes I was talking with them!_

**_Yes, yes. You know I’m just here and won’t be able to leave. You just went past you room._ **

 Harry abruptly stopped in his tracks, resulting in Tonks, who was looking around, to bump into him, ending up on both of them sprawled out on the floor. Harry pouted as he realized Tonks, despite being small, was still taller than him. He blames the Dursleys for his small stature, and his wretched cupboard. Apparently being confined inside a cramped space for the majority of your life can cause it.

“S-Sorry…” said Harry apologetically as he stood up, offering a hand to Tonks. “I was lost in thought…”

“Don’t worry about that.” Tonks responded as she took the offered hand. “I was not looking properly… it’s just that, this house is _too_ clean. A bit unnatural, if you ask me.”

Harry ignored it as he led the way back to his room. He opened the door, grateful that he had gotten rid of the locks and cat flap. He had installed it in the room of Dudley though. He planned on forcing his relatives to stay in that room together. That is, if they lived that long.

“Huh, it’s neat.” Tonks commented as she made her way inside after Harry who grabbed the books that were left on his desk and put it in his trunks. “Mum needed to constantly use magic to pack my things, never got a good hold on those householdy spells myself though.”

Harry went over to Hedwig and gently woke her up. He opened the cage and Hedwig flew out and made his outreached arm as her perch. He opened the debarred window and sent Hedwig to go wherever she pleases as long as she goes back to him. His owl was smart like that. And her sadistic streak was probably on par with his as he watched her swoop down on a random passerby. He giggled.

Thankfully, Tonks was looking at herself in the mirror.

“You know, I don’t think purple’s really my color,” she said pensively, tugging at a lock of spiky hair. “D’you think it makes me look a bit peaky?”

Harry merely shrugged, cleaning Hedwig’s cage with a wet cloth he always hang near her cage for cleaning. He ducked his head down, making his messy hair black his eyes from view.

_Tommy, save meee!_

**_What would I even save you from?_ **

_Their clutches!_

**_And how, pray tell, would I save you from them if I am stuck in your head?_ **

_I don’t care how! Just save me Tommy!_

Tommy ignored him and Harry mentally stuck his tongue out at him. He silently banished the filthy cloth and set down Hedwig’s cage on his trunk watching silently as Tonks changed her hair to bubble-gum pink. Harry didn’t even react outwardly as his earlier musings about Metamorphmagi resurfaced. He was about to ask Tommy when Tonks turned around to face him.

They stared at each other for a while before Tonks got bored.

“You’re done?” Harry nodded and gestured to his things. “Got everything? Cauldron? Broom? Wow! A _Firebolt_?”

Harry looked at the broom he put beside Hedwig’s cage and shrugged. He liked flying but it would be better if he could drop something fifty feet off ground. Preferably a human body. An _alive_ human body.

“And I’m still riding a Comet Two Sixty,” said Tonks enviously. “Ah well… still got your wand? Both buttocks still on? Alright, pick up your broom and let’s go. _Locomotor Trunk_.”

His trunk rose up a few inches off ground and all he thought about was what would happen if the trunk was accidentally dropped on Tonks’ feet when they’re climbing down the stairs. Wait. Maybe he should just trip her, she’s already clumsy and he won’t even be suspected. He grinned behind the witch. That would serve for entertainment.

They went out and Harry let Tonks walk first. Once they were near enough from the stairs, he sent a tripping jinx to her and watched delightedly as she fell down, his trunk following behind. He ran to the banister to watch and let out a silent giggle.

“TONKS!” came the several shouts from the kitchen.

**_You should probably hurry downstairs to help._ **

Harry nodded happily, mood already cheered up. He ran down and plastered a face of concern and worry. Everyone was crowded around her already so he settled on awkwardly standing on the stairs.

“Tonks, are you alright?” This came from Lupin.

Only a groan was his answer.

“Two cracked ribs, a twisted ankle, and several bruises.” declared Shacklebolt. “It was a relatively short fall but the trunk dealt more damage.”

Harry looked around as he didn’t notice Moody anywhere. He found him still sitting in the kitchen, magical eye spinning madly and his other normal eye staring straight at him. Harry’s lip twitched before he looked away. He did notice the slight widening of Moody’s eyes before they narrowed on him. Harry mentally cackled.

He heard Lupin sigh as they finished healing Tonks as much as they can.

“We can’t continue with using brooms because of this.” said Jones as she assisted Tonks in standing up, slinging the youngest witch’s arm over her shoulder. “We’ll have to risk side-along apparation.”

They all looked at Moody in confirmation. Moody, however, was apparently distracted as he merely nodded and didn’t do or say anything else. Harry stuck his tongue out at the grizzly ex-Auror when no one was looking at him and giggled silently, raising his wand in cheer as he glared at him.

**_Stop that._ **

Harry turned just in time to hide his right eye. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Tommy can sometimes be a killjoy. He giggled as a thought flashed through him. Maybe he could make that killjoy expression literal? He could think of many situations where he could use that. Like when inside the Gryffindor common room, he could randomly kill a person just because he would feel happy, or he could kill a person who felt too happy. It could apply to many situations…

“Harry, you come with me,” Lupin snapped him out of his daze. Harry looked up from where he looked down when he became lost in thought.

“What about Tonks?” asked Harry, worry apparent in his voice. Lupin looked at him with a weary smile.

“She’ll be fine, Harry. She’s an Auror, she survived far worse injuries.” said Lupin, leading him outside. “Hestia already took her to Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry stared at him blankly. He knew that there was such a place like St. Mungo’s and they still send her to Madam Pomfrey? Probably because they can’t let anyone else know what they were doing. But then again, they could have just lied. Oh well.

Lupin misread his expression as guilt, it seems. “It wasn’t your fault that Tonks fell. It was an accident. She was clumsy and she should have been careful…”

Harry nodded, laughing inside at the sheer stupidity Lupin held. Lupin was wrong. On all accounts. They were soon joined by the others who were left, Moody still staring at him all the way.

Lupin gave him another encouraging smile before he was led to a dark alley. Lupin held out a parchment and instructed him to read it.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Once he finished reading, Lupin pocketed the parchment and asked him to hold his arm and to not let go. Harry nodded as he already knew how to apparate (Tommy taught him as soon as his accidental magic proved him to be powerful enough to apparate at a young age) and along with that is the knowledge of side-along apparation.

Harry grabbed the outstretched arm and gripped it hard, earning an approving smile from Lupin. Harry barely prepared himself before he felt like being forced into a straw and soon enough, his feet landed roughly on the ground, Lupin’s arm being the only reason he didn’t end up sprawled out on the floor.

“It was rather unsettling, wasn’t it?” asked Lupin sheepishly, helping him find his balance again.

“Rather?” asked Harry in disbelief although he was not really affected. “That was more than rather.”

Lupin just smiled apologetically. There came pops just behind them and they were joined once again by Moody, Shacklebolt, Doge, Diggle, and Vance.

“Let’s get going.” said Moody gruffly, leading the way.

Harry looked around and saw that they were in a different neighborhood though it looked a bit like Privet Drive, only the building looked rather old. The name Grimmauld Place suited it. They walked straight to number 12.

Before opening the door, Lupin gestured for Harry to be quiet and Harry did. He knew from Tommy about the late Walburga Black. Tommy actually knows the place so the Fidelius was rather useless. Voldemort can very much attack it at any time; he only needed to find a way to inform his Death Eaters where it is. And Harry wished that he would attack. Harry can’t have free reign now that he was with the order. Unless he is with Moody… He cackled mentally.

They entered with relative ease and they went straight to what seemed like the dining room.

“Oh, Harry dear.” A voice called out in a whisper. “Hermione and Ron are upstairs, you can go now.”

Harry looked up to see Molly Weasley standing in front of him. He nodded, not really caring about anything but wallowing in self-pity because of the lack of his Free Reign (he had decided to call it that just now). He made his way upstairs, stopping only when he heard faint muttering.

“—Mistress would be so angry. Filthy mudbloods are contaminating her house. Oh the disgrace…”

Harry caught sight of a rather old looking House Elf, muttering to itself. He really couldn’t care less, but the state of the house…

“House elf,” Harry called its attention. The Elf looked at him, ready to make a derogatory comment before Harry cut him off. “Your Mistress would only be angrier if you let the house collect dust like this and if I am correct in my assumption, they are throwing out precious heirlooms from the prestigious House of Black,” He sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and staring at the Elf whose eyes were widening as he continued to talk. “Then, is it not easier if you tell them that you will ‘purify the House of the Dark’ and just do the opposite yet making it seem that you did? Or you could just hide all of the precious heirlooms inside a heavily warded room. This being the house of a Black, you may just find a room like that.”

Harry stood up and dusted off his baggy trousers. He never really got off to buy new clothes but, Merlin, he didn’t like shopping. He had the money but he was fine with what he has. He would rather use that money to buy several kinds of knives or torture devices. He would probably find some in the deeper parts of Knockturn Alley. Or just Gringotts. Those blood-thirsty and money-greedy creatures are rather polite if you have at least one shared trait. And he did.

He was pulled out of his musings as hands grabbed him and dragged him into a room. He didn’t even panic as he felt bushy hair brush against his face and he caught sight of red. He was pretty sure who his ‘captors’ were.

He opened his mouth to say something but his mouth was covered by a hand. The door was shut immediately and his ‘captors’ sighed in relief. When a few seconds passed and he still wasn’t released, Harry licked the hand covering his mouth.

As soon as Hermione felt the tongue swipe over her hand, she let go with a screech.

“Harry! That was disgusting.” She furiously wiped her hand on her skirt.

Harry stuck his tongue out in disgust and coughed lightly. “Hermione, your hand tastes horrible. What did you touch?”

Ron was looking on in confusion before it dawned to him. “Ew, mate. Why did you-?”

“Shut up, Ron.” said Harry, tongue still sticking out.

Suddenly, Harry was wrapped in an embrace and received a mouthful of bushy brown hair. Spiting it out was futile since if he opened his mouth, more would just enter. But he tried.

“H-Hermione, it’s nice to see you too…” said Harry through a mouthful of hair. “b-but could you please let go of me?” He could hear Ron snicker in the background and he tried to send a glower at him but the hair was still covering his face.

_Tommy, why can’t I kill them again?_

**_Because if you do, you’ll have the Order on your hide. Now shut up and don’t talk to me before that mudblood Granger of yours notices._ **

_Aww, Tommy, you know I love you; Hermyger’s only a part of the façade._

Hermione finally pulled away and he was greeted by a grinning Ronald Weasley.

“Hey mate,” said Ron. “Sorry if we haven’t been able to tell you anything… Dumbledore made us swear—”

Harry thought that this was the perfect opportunity to put on his Boy-Who-Lived persona.

“Dumbledore- he made you swear?!” said Harry, incensed. “Do—DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW I FELT?! WEEKS—WEEKS RONALD! WEEKS OF NO INFORMATION! VOLDEMORT COULD HAVE DESTROYED LONDON FOR ALL I KNOW!”

“H-Harry, calm down…” interjected the worried voice of Hermione. “Dumbledore said it was for your safety—”

“For my safety?” whispered Harry in anger though inside he felt like laughing in ridicule. “FOR MY SAFETY—DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW—HOW UNSAFE IT FEELS LIKE TO NOT KNOW ANYTHING?! AND YOU, HERMIONE. YOU—YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST SENT ME COPIES OF THE DAILY PROPHET! AT LEAST THEN—AT LEAST I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE WIZARDING WORLD.”

“Dumbledore said—”

“IT’S ALWAYS ‘DUMBLEDORE SAID’! MERLIN, ‘MIONE, I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN THAT!” Harry was pretty sure his face was red because of the shouting but thought nothing of it; it probably added to his acting.

“Harry—Harry, you should understand,” Hermione reasoned, reaching out to touch him. Harry shrugged it off violently and a conflicted look entered Hermione’s face. “Dumbledore made us swear—”

“TO HELL WITH DUMBLEDORE!” panted Harry. “YO—YOU SHOULD HAVE—YOU COULD HAVE—”

“HARRY!”

To their surprise, this came from Ron, whose face was as red as his hair. Harry thought it looked horrible. He also wondered how much blood would spurt out if he cut the red-head’s throat—

“Harry, we’re really sorry,” continued Hermione as Ron effectively shut him up. “I-we, we really are, Harry. I know we could have but- but we weren’t even allowed to go out—”

Harry raised his hand up to shut her up. “I- I know, sorry for blowing up on you like that. I-it’s just that- being with the Dursleys with nothing to go on—” He ran a hand through his messy hair to make it more believable. _Liar_ , thought Harry.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione engulfed him in another hug. “We’re really, really sorry.”

“Yeah, mate.” Ron joined the hug.

Harry fought hard to not squirm away from them but his body still tensed. Hermione noticed this and pulled away, taking Ron with her. A shiver nearly broke out of Harry in repulse. He hated it when someone suddenly touched him. That was one part that he never got rid of. The Dursleys had really taken its toll in him.

**_It’s alright, Harry…_ **

Harry jumped up and immediately conjured a spider behind him. It crawled up him and he bent down to hide his eyes from view.

_Tommy! Don’t do that!_

He appreciated it, really. Tommy was the only one who comforted him. No one else ever did. Oh, they _do_ , but not for _Harry,_ it’s always for _the Boy-Who-Lived_. Tommy only saw him as _Harry_ , despite him being, in extension, Voldemort. Everyone else could die for all he cared, as long as his Tommy doesn’t reject him.

He heard Ron let out a muffled scream and almost laughed but he reminded himself that he shouldn’t since _Ron’s best mate_ would never do that. Didn’t stop him from being amused though.

Harry reached his hand out to the spider and flicked it away, only for it to land on Ron.

Ron let out a totally girly screech which, Harry was sure, could probably be heard around the house. And another screech followed this, although it came from outside. Ron started running around, swatting around his body, and not exactly hitting its target.

“GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME—”

“ _Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers—”_

Harry covered his ears, along with Hermione who was actually trying to help Ron but the red-head was moving around too much. It was with great relief that they heard someone shutting up the screeches coming from outside.

“SHUT UP WOMAN!” It was followed by what sounds like curtains being shut and the screeching became muffled.

“RONALD! Stop running around!”

Harry removed the hands covering his ears and sat back to watch Ron running around in circles and Hermione chasing after him. He was busy watching in amusement, wishing that he had snacks with him, that he was startled when twin pops of apparation were heard beside him on each side.

He looked up from his sitting position to see a pair of red-headed twins blinking simultaneously at the scene before them.

“So it is—”

“—Ickle Ronniekins we heard—”

“—disturbing the completely—”

“—peaceful silence in this—”

“—gloomy house.”

Harry shrugged at them. “Got snacks?”

Fred and George stared at each other, having a silent conversation before they apparated away. They were back after a few seconds, this time holding a bag. Fred—at least that’s who Harry thought the twin is—handed him a bag of chips. They sat on each side of him.

“So—”

“—Harrickins—”

“—what’s happened—”

“—to have our dear brother—”

“running around like that?” They finished together, gesturing to Ron and Hermione who were _still at it_. Harry opened the bag of chips and passed it over to the twins. They ate the chips while watching.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno.” He took some chips and ate it again. “But I think it was probably the spider earlier.”

The twins looked at each other again before reverting back their attention to the couple running around. Harry merely rolled his eye at the stupidity of his so called friends. If he could just maybe send a tripping jinx…? Nah, he was getting repetitive. Getting bored, he turned his attention on the twins sitting beside him.

“Gred, Forge,” called Harry, gaining their attention. “How is business?”

Fred and George exchanged a mischievous glance and grinned at Harry.

“Why Harry,” said George, slinging his arm over Harry’s shoulder. He ignored the flinch Harry responded with. “We already have our plans. Your investment has been profitable.”

“Of course,” Fred continued, copying his brother. “You would have to wait since mum would have our hide if she found out. But you have your privileges as our business partner. We’ve been experimenting around.”

Both of them leaned down and whispered to his ear. “Extendable Ears are useful for eavesdropping.”

Harry looked at both of them. “Does anyone else know?”

Both twins shook their heads. “If you were to arrive later, we might have used it already.”

“Well,” started Harry, looking at the twins cryptically. “Don’t let them know. Especially your mum, you never know when it’ll come in handy.”

Harry stood up, leaving the twins staring at him. Harry rolled his eyes at them before he went to Ron and Hermione. He looked for the spider and when he found it, he plucked it off where it was hanging on Ron’s shoulder.

“Really, Ron,” sighed Harry, and added in a low voice that the one he was talking about wasn’t able to hear. “You are _pathetic_. Just like _them_.”

Lupin, however, heard it when he entered the room to check on the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will STILL be ERRATIC. I'm just pushing the Thesis work to my groupmates... for now. I don't trust them to accomplish it, by the way, hence why I am reluctant to delve into writing fanfiction until the shit show goes on the road.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something nasty this way comes~! Or, Harry meets Voldemort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I, unexpectedly so, finished InSanity... can't say I'm happy or sad with the way it ended but it certainly isn't what I had expected...

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

_Harry_

**_Tom_ **

_::Parseltongue::_

“Speaking”

“ _spells_ ”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry was staring up at the ceiling in his and Ron’s shared room in Grimmauld place. It was in the middle of the night and pretty much everyone was asleep. He could even hear Ron’s snoring that was slowly becoming an annoyance to him. He was actually half tempted to cover the red-head’s face with a pillow to suffocate him to death.

It had been a few weeks since he first arrived in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and he was already missing his Free Reign. His last act was the one with Tonks and Moody had kept a close eye on him ever since. Well, he just kept on blowing raspberries to the man anyway. Although, Lupin has also been glancing at him from time to time… werewolf or not, the guy needs to be more discreet. No wonder his missions always ended up as a failure.

Maybe he could just band up with the twins to create havoc…? That would serve for at least a bit of entertainment. Sirius would even approve of that because even he was getting bored with being holed up inside this grim old house. At least Kreacher, the old House Elf, has been helpful to him. And the house looked a bit better than the first time he saw it.

_To be or not to be…_

**_What are you talking about, Harry?_ **

_Oh nothing, nothing… just thinking whether I should slowly break my façade or not._

There was silence as Tommy pondered over his question.

**_You could always try to convince my other self to allow you to climb aboard. That would alleviate your boredom. It would even get you back your ‘Free Reign’._ **

Harry shot up from his bed in excitement. _Why didn’t I think of that?! The worse thing that could happen to me is to have Voldy have a few Crucios at me and then dying with an Avada Kedavra!_

Harry felt Tommy sigh in exasperation. **_Why did I even suggest that…_**

Harry giggled as he started to bounce on his bed, plans being formulated half-way through. _Why Tommy, that is because you love me. And besides, the only obstacle that could lead to the worst case scenario is the prophecy you mentioned… not that prophecies are meant to be heard…_

Deciding that his energy was probably too much to stay in one place, Harry bounced up and skipped his way outside the room. Once outside, he looked around in the darkness before shrugging and continuing forward. He had already memorized his way around, thanks to Kreacher’s help.

If he really did want to come into a truce with Voldy, he would have to find a way out. And probably indulge his urge to have another Free Reign for at least an hour. Probably.

School was still a month or so away so he still had a lot of time in his hands. Disappearing for the whole day was not exactly a cause of alarm for the Order members who did stay in the house since he was prone to disappearing to explore the house and would be randomly spotted in different places. Molly did scold him for that, saying that it was dangerous to roam around but Kreacher stepped in and said he had already ‘purged the house of anything that could hurt Young Master Harry’. Needless to say, Molly and anyone in hearing range were incredulous at the deranged elf.

So, he simply ignored every warning they gave him and still went on to explore the house. He found it hilarious when even Moody can sometimes not find him. After the fourth day, they had given up lecturing him earning a mischievous smile from the twins. He even found the library and spent most of his time there, if he wasn’t in a warded empty room where he could practice anything he wanted. Not all of the explosions they hear came from the twins.

Maybe he should show up once, standing on the ceiling? That would be fun.

**_So what are you going to do?_ **

 Harry skipped into a room that only he can enter after locking the wards into his blood. It was pretty much empty, aside from a window and a white leather couch. The walls were, of course, black.

Harry ignored the couch and went to sprawl on the floor.

“This place really could use a carpet,” muttered Harry, bending his back because he felt like it. “Why didn’t I ask Kreacher to put some?”

**_Because you also use this room for your more volatile hobbies. I ask you to protect yourself and you go take interest in dangerous subjects. What wrong have I done in raising you?_ **

Harry grinned, kicking up so he’s standing with his hands. “That is the problem. You basically raised me.”

At times, he would talk to his Tommy like this. He liked making their talks private but there’s just this amount of amusement he gets when he imagines people walking in on their random conversations and people would probably think him barmy; it’s just fun.

He spent the time planning while doing stunts Molly Weasley would probably faint at if she saw anyone doing it.

By the time dawn came, Harry had arranged a random disappearance two days from then. The meeting with Voldy would have to wait whenever he would be able to finish his animagus transformation. He already knew what animal he is, it’s only finding enough time to find a way to revert back to his human form that he needed to finish. He didn’t want to be stuck in his animagus form when people knew where he is. That would just suck.

**_You could use this day for that one._ **

Harry blinked. _Huh. I could._

“Kreacher!” called Harry.

There was a near silent pop, and then the deranged house elf was standing before him in a bow, its big ears touching the floor.

“What could Kreacher do for Young Master Harry?”

Harry was grateful that Kreacher doesn’t have the grammar problems other elves, like Dobby and Winky, have. Apparently, that depends on the Master and elf’s affinity to each other. He was a bit thrown out of the loop when he found this out, but thankful that because of this, Kreacher cannot disobey him no matter what.

Sirius had been suspicious at first when the elf followed Harry’s orders without badmouthing him, but the elf still showed its dislike to the innocent convict. Harry could careless and even allowed the deranged house elf to do anything it wants as long as it follows Harry’s orders and never betray him. It had caused for the elf to cause even more havoc than before but tolerates the others whenever it knew that Harry’s in his façade.

“Please inform the others, if they ever do ask, that I have already eaten so they won’t bother you or me,” ordered Harry with a grin. “Also, can you make an illusion of me regularly? It doesn’t have to be always up, just enough to at least mislead them.”

“Of course Young Master Harry.” nodded the elf. Then, with another pop, he was gone.

**_Don’t you have to eat?_ **

_I survived more than a few weeks without food before, what is a day compared to that?_

**_Harry…_ **

_It’ll be fine._

Tommy sighed in defeat. Harry knew there was something Tommy wanted to say but he didn’t know what.

With confusion, Harry started on his meditation, sitting cross legged on the comfortable couch.

He stayed like that for an hour with no change, and then his skin slowly started sprouting fur. Slowly, ever so slowly, the changes started. First was the tail, then triangular shaped ears appeared on top of his head.

By the time the changes stopped, it was well over noon.

Where a fifteen year old sat there now laid a small feline barely brushing adulthood. Its black ears had a white circular spot, and its fur’s pattern was not far from that of a leopard. Wide green eyes peeked through its small head that showed far more intelligence than a normal animal would.

_A Margay. At least they’re agile._

**_Don’t forget that they’re nocturnal as well._ **

_And lives most of their lives on trees. I’m just lucky Animagi don’t follow their animal’s reproductive cycle, and that I’m male._

Tommy gave the impression of shrugging. **_It’s well over half of the day, you should probably try to revert back._**

Harry nodded and closed his eyes to concentrate.

The same as before, the processes was long. It took another hour before changes were once again started. It was already dinner time when he was finished.

“That took a long time,” sighed Harry. “I’m grateful I had the whole day.”

**_Why don’t you try practicing for a few times?_ **

Harry pouted but agreed. He spent another four hours changing back and forth, every transformation taking shorter amount of time every repeat.

_Tooommmyyy~! Can I sleep now?_

**_Harry, I told you to go to sleep an hour ago. You were the one who insisted to practice more until the change is almost instantaneous._ **

_Fine! Be mean to me!_

**_And that is why you have a cat Animagus._ **

Harry huffed and crossed his arms but stood up from his sitting position, wincing at the crack his bones made. He probably should have changed positions every now and then. He was about to exit the room when a thought came to him.

He grinned. Opening the door slightly, he changed into his Animagus form and slipped out of the crack he left on the door. Using his hind leg, he closed the door behind him. Looking around, he was happy to note that he can see quite fine. Being nocturnal rocks!

Also, he was delighted to find that the beams, posts, and walls were made of wood. He was now happy about his form. He climbed up the beams and trotted wherever it leads him. He stopped when he saw a person walking on the hallway.

As the person got closer, he recognized it as Sirius Black.

_Is it fine if he found out?_

**_He won’t be saying it to anyone if you ask him. He’d probably be delighted to see you following in their footsteps._ **

Harry rolled his eyes but he made the decision. If Black thought that he was getting close to them, it would be funnier when they find out just how much he actually repulses them. And the man was a _dog._

He prepared himself for an attack and once his target was close enough, he pounced. He used Sirius’ hair to cling on and perched himself on his shoulder.

Sirius jumped as soon as he felt a… _furry_ thing collide with his neck and then pulled at his hair. He whipped his head to the side to find, to his horror, a _cat_ perched calmly on his shoulders, its green eyes glowing with mischief. It was no secret that cats and dogs don’t hit it off well so Sirius did what his instinct screamed at him to do; he growled.

The cat merely stared at him before it licked its paw.

“What is a cat doing here?!” bellowed Sirius.

Harry merely meowed at him and pawed the human’s nose, wishing that he didn’t have to retract his claws.

Before Sirius could try to swat him down or whatever, Harry jumped down from his perch and landed gracefully on the ground. He walked away for some distance then transformed back to his human form.

He turned to Sirius with a mischievous smile that he didn’t even need to fake. “Hey Siri!”

Sirius was staring at him with shock. Harry nearly huffed childishly but refrained from doing it as Harry Potter never did anything that is childish. He also ignored the urge to snap his fingers in front of the man and say the word ‘sleep’. He settled on the most Harry Potter-ish response (the most boring, in extension).

“Sirius?” blinked Harry, trying to get the man’s attention. “Siri? Padfoot!”

This seems to snap Sirius out of his daze.

“H-Harry?” stuttered the dog Animagus. “Th-That cat was you? You- you’re—”

“Yes, Sirius,” said Harry in a calm voice that conflicted his eyes flashing with mischief.

Sirius came out of his stuttering and he barked out a laugh. “Which question did you answer?”

“Umm… both, I guess…?”

“Oh—” Sirius let out a delighted laugh. “Tha—This- this is great, Harry! James would be so proud of you! I’m so proud of you!”

Harry closed his eyes with a proud grin to hide the fact that he was angry. He really hated it when they use his parents. They are _nothing_ to him. Once upon a time, that would have made him happy, but now, it doesn’t.

“So, um,” said Harry, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Maybe I- I can finally help and come with you whenever Professor Lupin- I thought that I could, um—”

“Merlin, Harry!” shouted Sirius, a stern expression crossing his gaunt face. “I can’t- I know you would want to but- Harry, it’s dangerous. I-It’s not safe even with the Wolfsbane—”

Harry cut him off apologetically. “I- It’s okay… I know, I- I’m sorry. Just- Sirius, please… um, at least don’t- I really don’t want others to find out that…”

Sirius sent him a smile. “Of course I won’t, pup.” Sirius ruffled his hair with a wink and Harry fought the urge to violently pull away. His body did tense though and Sirius seems to have noticed this. Morgana’s skirt, he should be able to control his flinches better—

He was engulfed in a hug by the bigger man and Harry stiffened further, furiously fighting the urge to kill the man. He forced his body to relax in the hug and Sirius tightened his hold.

“I’m really sorry, pup.” whispered Sirius over his head. “It’s just too dangerous. I- I promise you, at the end of all this, we’ll finally be a proper family and you can do whatever you want.”

Harry forced a smile to his face although he wanted to retch. “Si- I- I would like that…”

Sirius tightened his arms once more before finally letting him go. Mentally sighing in relief, Harry looked at Sirius and gave a watery smile. Sirius responded with a megawatt smile.

“So pup,” said Sirius mischievously. “You’re a cat… I’m a dog… mortal enemies, they say. Up to an adventure?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think Mrs. Weasley would be happy with that. Besides, it’s already late at night, _some_ people need their sleep.”

Sirius pouted and Harry thought it looked disgusting. “Aww, but Harryyy. You know we don’t even listen to Molly. And I still don’t know how you made Kreacher listen to you.”

Harry grinned at him. “A wizard never reveals his secret.”

With that, Harry transformed back into his Animagus form and bounded away, eager for the escape.

_Why did I even reveal it to him?_

**_Because you’re an idiot?_ **

_Shut up, Tommy._

**_Look on the bright side, you have someone who will probably recognize you in your Animagus form and help you._ **

Harry shivered his fur standing up as he entered his shared room with Ron. _Doesn’t mean I like him._

**_Keep that up. You can now continue on your plan on visiting the other me._ **

_You mean Voldy._

**_Yes, Voldy._ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry just came back from his Free Reign; some poor sod now had his body parts strewn around different parks. He had entwined the poor sod’s intestine at a chain of a swing in an abandoned playground found in the outskirts of a town he randomly came across with when he was just apparating to wherever his imagination brought him to. And he was proud to say that he made the expression ‘picking with bones’ quite literal.

It was morning when he arrived back at Grimmauld Place. He sneaked into the house using his Animagus form and slipped into his bed, transforming back just in time for Molly Weasley to come knocking, declaring that breakfast was ready.

Harry stretched his back and went to take a shower, cursing in parseltongue about his lack of sleep. Why did he just finish off back at dawn again? He could have done it much faster to at least have some sleep. Maybe he could pull the ‘having nightmares’ card? He was pretty sure Molly would not be averted to him getting some sleep. Yeah, that could work.

He was already finished dressing when Ron finally woke up, muttering about being hungry and food. Harry shrugged and followed his roommate out the door. They went to the dining room and were greeted warmly by Molly Weasley who scolded Ron for not taking a bath first.

Harry sat down to his usual sit, between the twins who were hunched over, talking about the products they had been experimenting on. He knew that they would have a shop over at Diagon and would probably ditch school but he could care less. It was their business.  He held neither hate nor like to them, though they seem to like him, if their standing up for him was anything to be held by.

He responded to their inane chatter, mind already clouded over by boredom even after his Free Reign. Though conjuring up the images of his earlier endeavor lifted his mood up. The lack of sleep just made him a bit cranky even to himself.

The morning was interrupted by the arrival of the owls carrying their Hogwarts letters. He read it over, pretending to be excited. He did here the squeals and ruckus though.

“Mum! Mum!” exclaimed Ron, eyeing a badge on the table wearily. “This- is this—”

“Is that—” started George looking wide eyed at the badge.

“—what we—”

“—think it is?”

“Oh Ron!” squealed Hermione. “Congratulations! We—that means you and I as I am a prefect as well—need to celebrate this! Of course we still have to prepare—”

“My baby is a Prefect!” Molly Weasley engulfed her son in a bone-crushing hug. “We have to tell your father about this! Finally someone in this family—”

Harry tuned them out after congratulating his two so called friends and settled on just reliving his Free Reign; the conversation doesn’t have anything to do with him anyway. He was lost to his own world when Molly Weasley called his attention.

“Harry, dear,” Mrs. Weasley called. “Dumbledore said that it would be dangerous to go out of the house. If you want, we can gather your things as well…?”

Harry nodded and gave her his list and key that lead to his separated vault (this one was for such an occasion). He figured he probably should have fought harder when Molly Weasley gave him a surprised look. Harry sent a sheepishly tired smile at her.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry tiredly. “It’s just that… I had- uh I was not able to sleep properly…”

Molly Weasley nodded in understanding. “Maybe you should go up and rest?”

Harry nodded meekly and stood up to leave. But he realized that he could use their trip to Diagon.

“Uhm… may I know when you’re going to Diagon Alley…?”

“Oh, probably the day after tomorrow,” answered Molly Weasley, ushering him out. “A lot of students would buy their supplies tomorrow. Why did you ask, dear? Do you want us to fetch something for you?”

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Could you, perhaps, get me some sweets? Ron already knows what I like so maybe…”

“Of course we’d buy you some sweets. Now off you go, be sure to rest, alright?”

“Yes Mrs. Weasley.”

“Oh, I told you to call me Molly countless times already…”

Harry ducked his head and made his way upstairs. He entered their room and flopped down on the not-so-rickety-and-dirty-thanks-to-Kreacher bed.

The day after tomorrow… he could use that to go off and visit Voldy. There would be a distinct lack of people around to bug him. He should be just fine if he revealed that he is also a vessel for Voldy’s Horcrux but he didn’t want that to be the only reason. He also wanted to get rid of the prophecy.

For that, though, he needed the full one but he figured that Voldy would probably try to get it anyway. So he could just have a truce for his Free Reign. And he could finally start on his Kick-the-Bucket list.

Honestly, he didn’t even need to finish attending Hogwarts for his education as he already finished practicing the course books up until seventh year. Plus, he could already tell that this year would be hectic with what the Prophet was writing about Harry Potter. Not that he cared, but Harry Potter would.

Harry burrowed his head deeper into the fluffy pillow and bid goodnight to his Tommy.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

A hooded figure strode down the streets of Little Hangleton.

It didn’t matter that he wore a cloak in the middle of summer since no one was paying attention to him anyway. He made his way towards the biggest house in the small town. It looked like it had been abandoned for a long time but he knew for sure that someone is, indeed, living there. After all, nothing as plebian as a destroyed, abandoned house stopped Magic from being used to repair the damages.

Harry whistled a tune as he reached the gate leading towards the Riddle Manor.

_Tommy, why did Voldy stay here again and not in the Malfoy Manor where he could probably have more access to the wizarding world? And didn’t you say that you hated your muggle parent?_

**_After Hogwarts, I made this a safe house just in case anything happens. It is such a waste of property, considering that it is still a manor. Riddle Manor or no, I would take advantage of it._ **

_Sounds like something you would do._

Disregarding the wards that should have stopped him from entering, Harry opened the gates and skipped his way inside. It was almost laughable how such a loophole was disregarded. Voldy, after his resurrection, now shared blood with him so blood wards are useless. And considering that Voldy uses blood wards as overdrive to the others… well, needless to say, Harry took advantage of that.

Deciding on whether he should knock or not, he shrugged and chose the latter.

Once he reached the door, he pushed it open as he did with Dudley’s room’s door.

The resulting bang startled the two people currently staying in the manor. Immediately, a green light sped to Harry at the same time as a snake lunging at him. He easily sidestepped both and went to smile brightly at the robed figure that appeared in front of him.

The robed figure hissed at him, red eyes narrowing and lipless mouth curling into a sneer. He had a white ivory wand pointing menacingly at Harry.

 _::Nagini::_ hissed the man-serpent hybrid.

The snake that had lunged at Harry before slithered over to the man.

“Who are you?” hissed the man at him, sending another killing curse at him. Harry sidestepped this again and flicked his hood away, revealing his bright grin. He waved his hand in greeting.

“Hello Voldy!” greeted Harry cheerily, dodging another curse sent at him.

“Potter!” shouted Voldemort as he recognized the intruder. His pupils narrowed like a snake’s as his anger increased. “What is this?! Gone the cowardly way and chose to attack me blindly? Or have you come to finally die at my hands?”

Harry pouted at him, continuously dodging the spells sent at him. “Not even a proper greeting? Aww, that’s rude you know.”

“Shut up!” Voldemort directed Nagini to bite him but even she, Harry could dodge.

“C’mon Voldy! Calm down and listen!”

“Stop you incessant talking and fight, Potter!”

“For Merlin’s sake, Voldemort! Just shut up and listen to me!”

Voldemort didn’t stop sending spells at him, and Harry continued to dodge, never losing the grin on his face.

“I know about your Horcruxes!”

This stopped the barrage of spells but Voldemort grew more and more angry.

_::What do you mean—::_

_::Just what I said! Merlin, Voldy, you should listen to what people say!::_

There settled a tense silence over them and Harry blissfully shrugged it off as he ignored Voldemort to face Nagini, crouching near her.

_::You are Nagini, correct?::_

The snake slithered over to him, tongue flickering out to smell him. _::And you are Harry Potter.::_

Harry frowned at her. _::No, I don’t like being Harry Potter. I’m just Harry.::_ He reached out a hand. _::You are beautiful, may I touch you?::_ The snake answered by moving closer to him. Harry ran his hand through the smooth scales adorning her back. He was so enamored that he barely noticed the huge snake curling around him.

 _::You smell the same as master, childe,::_ hissed Nagini, curling around Harry who sat down on his knees on the floor. _::How is it that happened?::_

Harry giggled and let the snake nuzzle his neck. _::Of course smell the same as him! Tommy’s with me!::_

This snapped Voldemort out of his trance.

“What?!”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned so he was facing the man while not jostling Nagini who was happily curled around him. Voldy was getting repetitive.

_Tommy, I think I broke Voldy._

He felt Tommy surface over his conscious, amusement palpable in the Horcrux inside him.

“ ** _Hello Voldemort._** ”

Harry jumped, as soon as he took back the control of his body. “Tommy! Don’t suddenly do that.”

**_The look on his face though._ **

Harry looked up and a laugh bubbled out of his throat. Voldemort looked further than shocked; his mouth was hanging open with disbelief, and that, added with the surprised look on his blood red eyes, he looked rather comical. To Harry, at least. If Death Eaters saw this face, they would be cowering in a corner.

“Snake got your tongue?”

“Potter,” said Voldy in a dazed angry voice. “Explain. Now.”

“Demanding, sheesh.” Harry rolled his eyes again, shifting so he could be in a more comfortable position. Nagini curled up around his torso and neck, her head on top of his head. “Not that I would be able to go anywhere anyway.”

Harry let out a sigh. He knew Voldy became intrigued when Tommy came out, and he knew that his right eye was still red since Tommy never went away from his conscious.

“Long story short,” started Harry. “I am a Horcrux. I’m pretty sure that the Diary should have gone back to you as the soul cannot ever be destroyed unless it’s whole, as you undoubtly know. The vessel of a Horcrux _can_ be destroyed, but not the soul itself. It is, however, a different matter when it comes to living Horcruxes.”

Harry held up a hand to shut Voldemort up when he opened his mouth to say something. Voldemort shut his mouth but frowned at him.

“Nagini here is a Horcrux, right?”

“How did you know that?!”

“You just told me.” Harry brushed off the poisonous glare that was being sent to him. Voldemort can’t attack him because Nagini was curled around him, the snake claiming defense to Harry. “As a living being have their own soul, the Horcrux would integrate itself along with the living being’s soul. While still being effective as an anchor to the main soul, it will, however, be destroyed once the living being died as their soul would pass on taking the Horcrux with them.”

Voldemort got a pensive look on his face, proving that he, indeed, is capable of rational thinking, unlike what the others say.

**_Of course I’m capable of rational thinking._ **

_I know you are. I was not sure about Voldy._

**_He did absorb the Diary Horcrux. That was the first Horcrux I made so it has the largest impact to his sanity._ **

_And I just happen to make you stable?_

**_Yes._ **

“If what you are saying is true,” said Voldy, anger and disbelief slowly fading away from his face, leaving curiosity. “What are you doing here? If you are, indeed, my Horcrux, the old coot will never allow his precious Boy-Who-Lived to get close to me.”

“Don’t call me that, ever,” hissed Harry, red and green eyes flashing in warning. “I wanted to have my Free Reign expanded. If I am with the Order, I won’t be able to have my Free Reign.” Nagini tightened her coils to calm the clearly agitated teen.

Voldemort raised an, where it is supposed to be, eyebrow ignoring the reaction he got. “What is this ‘Free Reign’ of yours?”

Harry shrugged, petting Nagini in thanks. “What it means. I started as soon as Tommy allowed me to.” Then he added in a mutter. “He’s too much of a mother hen.”

**_You do realize I can hear you._ **

Harry stuck his tongue out, confusing Voldemort who also heard the mutter but not the conversation with the Horcrux. Nagini let out a pleased hiss as Harry’s hand brushed to a sensitive part.

_::You’re warm.::_

“You can talk to the Horcrux?” asked Voldemort in surprise, not at all fazed by the mangled nickname.

“Of course I can,” responded Harry. “Tommy’s been with me for, like, the majority of my life.”

“What do you really want, Harry Potter?”

“ _Don’t_ ever call me Harry Potter. It’s only Harry or whatever you want to call me. Harry Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived, I am just Harry. Do _not_ ever associate me with that _poster boy_. I am Harry, the boy who grew up used to being called _freak_ ; the boy who grew up in a cupboard under the stairs, unloved by his own blood kin with only one _person_ to ever care for him!”

By the end of his speech, he was screaming.

_::Calm down, Childe!::_

**_Calm down, Harry!_ **

Nagini tightened her coils once more while Tommy used his meagre energy to calm him. Harry took a few deep breathes to calm his speeding heart. Blood was pounding to his ears as he realized what he had said.

“No- I—”

Voldemort, however, came to the most probable conclusion and he didn’t like it. Flashes of memories past forgotten resurfaced and he found himself bubbling with anger, red eyes narrowing and pupils slitting.

No one hurt what was _his._

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably just update here in AO3... once a day? Maybe, maybe not, but often enough because it's already finished. I dumped the Thesis over to my groupmates who I had to curse rather spectacularly at before they actually opened the damned file. I mean, fucking seriously, I fucking sent the draft and template, all they had to do was elaborate and the fuckers had the gall to seenzone me?! Jackasses. I even sacrificed my email just so I can submit it to our instructor during the weekends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy told Harry to be nice... no, not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smilies everywhere~ I won a tournament! It's lawn Tennis you meanies, not a sleeping competition *pouts* but yeah, I won as champion... out of two teams... yeah, at least I won a game!
> 
> Warnings are same ol' same ol'.

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

Tom took control of Harry’s body while the teen tried to calm himself down. He could only do this for a few seconds, a minute at most. But he just needed to let his point across. He knew that Voldemort likely already knows why Harry reacted that way, if the look on his snake-like face was anything to go by.

“ ** _I don’t have much time,_** ” started Tom, borrowed red eyes flashing, “ ** _but Harry is my vessel. I am your Horcrux. You would do better if you protect him. And I suggest that you ignore the prophecy; they aren’t meant to be heard._** ”

Tom felt the strain on his reserves and let Harry gain back the control. He watched, through Harry’s eyes as Voldemort simply nodded in agreement. It seems the man—for he was such, now that he acts more like it—has come to the correct conclusion; prophecies are never meant to be heard, let alone manipulate one’s action.

Everything that happened to Harry—from the Dursleys to the effects— and what Voldemort had ended up in, were orchestrated just because one prophecy was heard. Without the prophecy, everything would have been finished a long time ago; everything would have ended in the first War and no other casualties to be added. And Voldemort now knew this too.

And Voldemort knew to protect Harry, too. Or he would suffer the wrath of his own Horcrux.

He cared for Harry. Ever since he had seen himself in the child when said child was being enslaved, he determined himself that he would care for the child, unlike himself who grew up as the power hungry, scared of death Dark Lord because no one ever reached out a hand.

He had fulfilled his task, yet failed. Harry, despite having Tom, had still succumbed to the abuse of his _blood relatives_ and with that came the consequences. Harry showed most of the signs of children abused at a young age, but what makes the difference is that he can hide it. Harry’s good at hiding things, and that is what Tom regrets, at the same time not, ever teaching him. After all, an insane man that shows insanity can have some of their reactions predicted, but an insane man that can hide his insanity is far too _unpredictable_ , too _dangerous_. And people sought out to remove someone that dangerous.

The least Tom could do was to restrict Harry with logic to protect him.

Even Tom, at a young age, shows his true colors to people— _flashes of memories resurfaced; an old orphanage, taunting children, a bunny hanged at the rafters, shouting, “You! YOU FREAK IT’S YOUR FAULT_ —and even Dumbledore knew to avoid him, to stop him. Harry, however… only people the teen intended to find out knew. But Tom knew Harry and Harry knew Tom. They would never do anything to endanger the other, and that includes Voldemort, in Tom’s case, if he continued with his agreement.

“T- ah, sorry,” Tom realized Harry was speaking, “I’m sorry for that- earlier…” Harry looked down to his lap and Tom knew he was blushing. Tom smirked. Maybe this small truce really was a good decision…

“No harm done.” answered Voldemort in a slightly strained voice.

Both Harry and Tom noticed this. Tom listened, amused as always, as Harry started thinking of various things that could have led Voldemort to answer like that when all Voldemort did was to cause harm. At least in Harry’s view and the boy knew that he doesn’t know everything so shrugged it all off.

Silence settled over them though not one of them noticed this, what with their tendency to ignore tense atmospheres. Getting annoyed at the silence and waste of time, Tom chose his moment to speak to Harry his thoughts.

**_Harry, maybe you should get on with it, you still have to return to Grimmauld Pla—_ **

_I don’t really have to, Tommy—_

**_Don’t call me Tommy—_ **

_—just because they need their Boy-Who-Lived doesn’t mean I have to return. If I ever disappear, they would probably think that I was holed up somewhere in the house for a few days before they start actively searching for me._

Tom stayed silent as he pondered over this. Harry had a point there; the teen had decided it was fun to see the people there look worried when nothing really is wrong and spent the hours looking moody (Harry had giggled at that when he thought of it) and tired, pretending to be not feeling well after the death of Cedric Diggory and wallowing in self guilt.

**_Ok, fine. Where are you going to stay then?_ **

Harry shrugged.

Tom might have laughed at the weirded out look Voldemort gave Harry when he shrugged, but he would deny it with all his might—it wasn’t impressive now, mind you, but he has Harry at his side but he got the feeling the little bastard would make fun of him instead.

“So why are you here, Harry?” asked a rather hesitant Voldemort. It was funny seeing the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald hesitant. To a teenager nonetheless!

“What I said,” answered Harry back, turning his attention to the snake wrapped around him, not at all feeling like fidgeting under the red examining gaze. “A truce and Free Reign.”

“You have not explained what this,” Voldemort gestured around, “Free Reign is.”

Tom let go and laughed at how human the Dark Lord was being after all the chaos of the War he had ignited, and the confusion of his resurrection. Tom, as a soul shard of Voldemort from the end of the war, had all the memories to know how much innocent blood was spilled. Some of these memories filtered to Harry and Tom had blamed himself for not protecting his own memories from a _child_ who can be easily influenced, as the Dursleys liked to gloat around. Even until now when he already allowed Harry to finally release his pent up rage.

“Free Reign,” started Harry, “is simply me doing whatever I want in exchange for one thing. Although I already had the permission for Free Reign from Tommy, I needed a way to continue it and being with the order… that is not possible. It’s only something I can call whatever I feel like doing.”

“And you would ask me because…?”

“Tommy is a part of you and you are a part of Tommy.” stated Harry simply, as if it answered everything.

Which it did, thought Tom. Being with Harry for the majority of the teen’s life—his birth until Voldemort’s attack being the only part he isn’t—made him used to Harry’s logic of ‘ _anything I think is true is true, no questions asked; anyone who questions it will receive only one explanation and when still not happy, I force you to, through any means necessary_ ’. That had started when the pressure of being with his _relatives_ and finding out that everyone in the Wizarding World was basically the same had broken Harry completely beyond even Tom’s care.

Tom had fervently wished that he could have punished those worthless beings but he didn’t have enough power to do so and Harry had still been unprotected and _unsafe_ if he does anything against them. Going to his other self had been the top priority even though he said to Harry that he had to wait until he is _safe_ enough to deal with the fallout that Tom had no doubt that will happen at a later date. And being with his other self, _Voldemort_ , was the way out of it. He would make sure of it.

“Okay.” Tom found himself surprised at how easily the man agreed but thought, then again, that Voldemort _is_ rather adaptable. “What about the truce?”

Harry hummed. “Well, as Tommy said, prophecies are never meant to be heard—not that I know what the prophecy contains, I know about it the same as you do—and I really, really don’t care about what happens to those sheep. I’d rather have my Free Reign, thank you very much.”

 _::Master::_ This called all of their attention to the snake nearly dozing off on Harry’s lap. Voldemort arched an eyebrow, or at least where it was supposed to be, at the snake. Tom knew why. Nagini was never as relaxed a she is around anyone else besides Voldemort. _::Can we keep him? He’s warm and cuddly and he’s a Childe. He’s now my Childe. Master, I’ll keep him.::_

There was a silence that descended the room, Harry too busy with _cuddling_ the snake never noticed.

Suddenly, Voldemort laughed.

Tom joined along as he felt Harry be pleased with both the attention the snake was giving him and, possibly, the reaction of Voldemort as well. It really was one of his best decisions to point Harry towards Voldemort. What Harry had lacked in any kind of affection, aside from Tom’s, he could, perhaps, at least be repaired by the ones who Tom trusted Harry with.

**_Or maybe more…_ **

_What?_

**_Nothing, nothing._ **

Harry pouted and lavished Nagini with all his attention. _Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll find out anyway._

**_Of course you would._ **

Tom smirked. Best decision indeed.

Voldemort felt the sudden chill and forced himself to not shiver as he led Harry to the living room.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry had quickly invaded one of the guest rooms in the manor and Nagini stayed most of the time with him, only leaving her Childe when Voldemort left for an errand.

Harry, Voldemort quickly found out, liked bugging people so the teen was always found in the study, pestering Voldemort, while, _at the same time_ , reading a book. How he managed that, Voldemort can only guess and Tom sigh. As far as Tom could tell, Harry had never been this annoying. He had been annoying before but not _this_ annoying.

Harry, however, was feeling giddy and nervous at the same time, therefore leaving his nerves at a state not so different to fireworks. He had tried to calm himself down by transferring his excitable energy to the only thing he could; badgering Voldymorty. His most recent _modus operandi_ had been randomly pouncing on the man in his Animagus form. He found that even though in animal form, he could still speak in parseltongue finely. After all, cats could hiss.

He had been scowled at, flicked at, but never something worse than that. Harry really couldn’t figure out why he felt relieved and attached even more to the man.

Tom, however, knows. Not that he would tell Harry that. He could only be grateful that his plan had worked and in the last few days, Harry was slowly calming down but he knew the teen could never be calm anymore. Too much damage had been done but, hey, Voldemort’s making more progress than anyone else, so it was fine.

 As long as Harry would never feel that miserable again.

The insanity that was slowly taking over Harry had been stifling. It had _hurt_ more than anything else. And it had _hurt_ Harry to the point of _breaking_. Harry was broken; Tom knew that, Voldemort knew that, Nagini knew that. It was already a statement.

Even Voldemort, the _ruthless, cruel, heartless Dark Lord_ that he is, never wanted anyone to be broken and live. He _did_ break people, but in the end, he lets them have the mercy of death.

Harry, however, despite being broken, deep inside, he still had the will to live. To live and do as he wishes.

Harry was never aware that they were trying to mend the broken parts he had left. He was not willing to believe that anyone would want to care for him. Oh, he knew Tommy did but Tommy was too weak to do that. He can barely even express his emotions to Harry and not suffer exhaustion. So being with Voldemort and Nagini, who both took their time to be _with_ him and actually _care_ for him the way only Tommy did.

Nagini with her clingy mother henning, Voldemort with his aloof yet affectionate interactions, and Tommy who he simply knows _cares_ for him, not _about_.

That, however, didn’t stop him from going to have another Free Reign.

After a week of staying put in the manor and annoying Voldemort, Harry took off to Great Hangleton and snatched a random passerby, swiftly transfiguring the rather stocky woman into a doll. Putting the transfigured doll inside his pocket, he went back to the manor.

“Voldy!” called Harry cheerily as he entered the study where Voldemort was doing paperwork he didn’t care to know about. “Can I borrow the dungeons?”

Voldemort blinked at him before slowly nodding though a second later, narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

Harry looked at him under his lashes while pulling a doll from his pocket. Voldemort absently noted that he should buy Harry new clothes as well; he was wearing that baggy, fading shirt and equally baggy trousers he wore two days ago. Though he should probably just let the teen choose. Money was not really a problem. He resolved to burn those abominations the teen continued to wear as clothes as soon as he can.

“A doll?” asked Voldemort incredulously.

“It’s not a doll.”

“Then what is it?”

“Uhm,” said Harry, indecisive on whether he should just say or show. Deciding that it would be a waste of effort if he transfigured his captive back into human then back again, he opted to use the first option. “A human.”

“Uh-huh,” said Voldemort as he set down the paper he was holding with distaste. “What are you going to do with… it?”

“What are the dungeons for?” answered Harry as he simply sauntered off into the dungeons Voldemort had created when he made the manor into a safe house. It used to be a cellar but a bit of magic here and there made another room upstairs into a more suitable cellar and the dungeons were made.

The place was dark but not at all damp, unlike the ones in Grimmauld Place—that place was so dark and damp; it seemed rather unkempt, probably because it was not being used anymore—though there were still spatters of blood everywhere, it was relatively clean.

Unlit torches were the only source of light—typical medieval obsessed Voldemort ( ** _Hey!_** )—there was a holding cell or two, a small room to the side—presumably for interrogation—and a pretty large open space with various cabinets attached to the walls— a place where people could be more… _creative_. It’s where the choir would be placed for the other captives’ enjoyment and entertainment.

Harry went to the open space and conjured a steel table roughly the same size as his new playmate in human form. He placed the doll on the table and transfigured the doll back into human. Harry didn’t bother to take in the woman’s features as, in the end, she was only another faceless being.

The stocky woman immediately screamed at him as soon as the spell was done and Harry silenced her, rubbing his ears all the while.

“Merlin! Do people really need to be this noisy? It’s not like I’m doing anything to them! Yet!”

He quickly stunned the woman when she tried to hit him.

Harry sighed, hands shaking. “Why do people like hitting me?” And people did. His Uncle did. His Aunt did. Dudley did. Everyone did. Why not hit the freak?— _Blood, pain, fear, anger, darkness, longing, loneliness, helplessness, “TOMMY_ —

Arms engulfed him and the first reaction Harry did was to recoil at the touch, fearing that it would only bring more pain— _ghost pain erupted, worthless, useless, no one wants yo—_

“Harry, Harry…”

The arms tightened around him, only the shushing of a familiar voice anchoring him back in reality. His Uncle’s not here. His Aunt isn’t here. Dudley can never be here. No one besides Tommy, Voldemort, and Nagini were around.

“No one’s here to hurt you,” whispered Voldemort to the teen in his arms. He ran a hand through the messy hair, calming Harry down further at the gentle touch. Voldemort himself was surprised at how gentle he is when it comes to Harry. Not Potter. Not the Boy-Who-Lived. And especially not his Horcrux. Harry became more than his Horcrux in the past days. It was just his Harry now, not Harry, his Horcrux.

Harry took a shuddering breath as he calmed down, standing up properly but not pulling away from the comfort— _comfort, coming another person aside from his Tommy; comfort coming from his say so enemy_.

Tom stayed quiet through all of this, silently happy that there was someone else aside from him that cared for Harry. And Voldemort was different. He _was_ Voldemort, but now he was Tommy, the one who took Harry under his wing despite being _inside_ the boy. That was what Harry had believed in all this time, Tom only kept on rebuking him. But the boy was nothing but stubborn and kept on calling him Tommy, not the Tom who was in the Diary, and not Voldemort the main soul. Voldemort was only his past; not the present nor future.

“What were you going to do to this... muggle?” Voldemort spat the last word as if it was the vilest thing in the world, shifting so he was more comfortable. His arms ended up encircling Harry’s waist when the teen faced the slumped figure of the muggle. If their position was a bit intimate, no one said anything.

“Well,” started Harry, giggling a bit, his mood turning a complete 180 now that he was _fine_ —not alright, never alright. “She was to be my playmate… but I don’t think I like her anymore. So she’ll be my dog!”

Voldemort snorted, “Please, by all means, continue.”

Harry summoned a gag from one of the cabinets and used magic to put it on the muggle. Next, he summoned a plain black collar with a chain leash attached to it. He held it in his hand and stared at it. The chain was heavy but the collar was too plain. He wrinkled his nose and conjured numerous small, rusting needles and attached it all on the inside part of the collar. He put the collar around his dog’s neck before hooking the chain leash at the foot of the table.

He giggled as he let go of the chain and watched as some of the needles imbedded into the skin, all the while Voldemort watched as Harry did all this with amusement.

“You know about the story of Christ, right?” asked Harry absently as he leaned on Voldemort, giggling spontaneously as some blood dribbled down the unconscious woman’s neck.

Voldemort made an agreeing sound. “The one those annoying Christians believe in?”

“Yes, that. I just thought about how similar what I did to my dog is with the crowning of thorns.”

“If this is how you treat your pets, I fear what will happen if you do have a pet given to you willingly.”

Harry pouted. “She’s been a bad dog and I have _some_ instincts of my Animagus form. Besides, bad dogs need to be neutered.”

“Normal people don’t neuter dogs just because they have been bad.”

“Well then, I’m not normal people then. Even you aren’t.”

Voldemort shrugged and placed his chin on top of Harry’s head, his tall willowy figure easily towering over the teen’s small frame. He really needed to force more food into Harry but the teen could barely stomach a whole plate and Nutrition Potions were out of the question when both Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears were coursing through one’s veins; the endless fight between two potent substances renders anything less potent useless. And those two are _the_ most potent.

“Yes, yes.” Voldemort waved his hand. “Carry on, Nagini will be here soon.”

Harry’s smile brightened. “Really? Where had Nagi been?”

“If I would guess, Nagini had been out… _hunting_.”

**_For mates._ **

Harry sputtered, blushing. “What?!” His attention from the blood was pulled away to Voldemort who was looking at him in surprise. “Nagi’s out hunting for… for _mates?_ ”

“How did you kno- oh, never mind. Yes, she is.”

“B-but… why doesn’t she have a-a—”

“A clutch? Because she was rendered infertile. That was why she insisted on ‘keeping you’.” Voldemort rolled his eyes.

“O-oh.” Harry said simply, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of snake habits. Then, he brightened when he thought of a question. “Do you?”

“’Do I’ what?”

Harry smiled mischievously. “Do you follow snake habits?”

**_H-Harry! Merlin- why?!_ **

“What the-” sputtered Voldemort, staring incredulously at the teen in his hold, “why did you even- Merlin! That was just- I don’t!”

“It was a valid question,” said Harry in a sing-song voice, giggling at the sputtering both coming from his Tommy and his Voldemort. Though now that he thought of it, don’t snakes have two—

**_Harry! Don’t even think about it!_ **

Too late.

“So, do you have two—”

“Stop! No, I don’t!”

“Aww, having two pricks would have been an advantage in—”

**_Harry!_ **

 “Harry!”

“—bed. I’m pretty sure if you knocked up someone they would be—”

Voldemort stopped his tirade by holding his mouth close, forgetting that he could have just used magic to silence the teen. Voldemort stood there, horrified. No one ever asked him about that; he had never been scarred so much.

Harry, however, was laughing, but his cheeks were rather red with something he would not like to mention.

They were startled when a wet choking noise broke the relative silence.

“Oh,” said Harry as soon as Voldemort removed his hand from his mouth, though it still went back to its position around his waist, not that anyone minded. “We forgot about her.”

Voldemort shrugged and let Harry do whatever he wanted, still in shock with their earlier conversation.

Harry proceeded to wake the woman who tried to scream in pain but found her mouth blocked by a gag.

“Now doggy,” cooed Harry cheerily, “you have been bad so I won’t stretch our time too long. And we already have a time limit! The rust will soon enough poison your blood so I won’t even have to care much for you!”

Harry turned his head to look at Voldemort. “What do you want? Bloody or not?”

Voldemort tilted his head before a malicious smirk graced his lipless mouth. “Bloody.”

Harry answered with his own grin. He faced the woman again. The woman was too scared now to even move, her head remained still as the rusted needles poked sharply at her skin every move she made.

“Well, what he said!” declared Harry as he summoned a knife from one of the numerous of its cheap kind. He proceeded to use his magic to speed up the process of rusting. “I had the urge to use rusted things. Suits you, I guess.”

Harry caressed the knife before suddenly stabbing it to the woman’s hand, leaving the knife imbedded in her skin. A high-pitched, muffled scream tore through the woman, as she choked on her own spit while trying, and failing, from not moving her head too much. Harry conjured three more knives and made his magic rust it.

Harry grinned at her sobbing form. “Did that hurt? Don’t worry; we’ll only repeat that for three more times.”

He stabbed her other hand and then proceeded to stab her two feet.

“There! That was fast.” said Harry happily, eyeing his handiwork as minimal amount of blood poured out. He frowned. “That’s not right, Voldemort said bloody so…” He summoned all the four knives back to him, wrenching it away from where it was stabbed on.

He giggled as his captive choked on her own spit and scream.

“You know,” said Voldemort for the first time, staring at the blood slowly pouring out of the stab wounds, “When you said Free Reign, I did not expect it to be like this.”

“Well, what did you expect?” asked Harry as he banished the blood covered rusty knives. The woman was now whimpering in pain and Harry thought it was ridiculous since they barely started.

“I honestly didn’t expect anything,” answered Voldemort, shrugging. “If you taught me something, I was to not expect anything when it comes to you.”

Harry laughed. “Why thank you.” Harry turned to frown at the crying, whimpering woman on the table. “We should probably finish this quickly, if we prolong this anymore, she would be broken easily.”

Harry summoned a carving knife and proceeded to carve random patterns on the woman’s skin, ripping her blue blouse when it went in the way. He used his magic to flip the woman over, ignoring the choke he got when her neck stabbed into the numerous needles on the collar. It already looked ridiculous, having many small holes with blood dropping out from the small wounds as it repeatedly got stretched and imbedded.

Harry continued carving on her back, banishing her clothes when he got annoyed with it. He didn’t dare carving runes as it was volatile when carved on human skin. He flipped her back up, giggling as he admired his work.

Voldemort’s hold, surprisingly, never got detached despite Harry maneuvering all around.

“What do you think I should do next?” asked Harry to Voldemort, tilting his head.

“Maybe you should cut her breasts?”

Harry clapped his hands in delight. “Of course!” He grinned up at the crying woman. “Now doggy, we both know you’ll die anyway so you don’t have a use for… _those._ ”

Picking up the carving knife he had set down earlier, he carved out her nipples, flicking away the cut up flesh to the side, leaving trails of blood in it wake.

“Didn’t I say breasts?”

Harry snapped his fingers nodding enthusiastically. “Right! Breasts! Not nipples, fine.”

He pulled out two scalpels from his pocket. It had a longer than normal handle but that works for what he was going to do.

“One cut up breast coming up!”

Harry slowly stabbed the scalpel from where the nipple was supposed to be. He stopped when he felt the scalpel bumping into a bone. He did this to the other one as well.

Harry stood up from his slightly bent down position and leaned his back on Voldemort who was watching with amusement, smirking when the woman would look at him pleadingly. Harry crossed his arms with a laugh.

Dramatically, he raised a finger and gestured a stirring motion. The scalpels copied the motion, eliciting a sickening squelch as it sliced, mashed, and cut through flesh, blood pooling around. With magic being used, it was not disturbed at all by the thrashing body.

The woman kept on choking on her screams. Whenever she tried to remove one of the scalpels, an invisible barrier would prevent it, and the scalpels would only stir faster.

“Look, Voldy!” exclaimed Harry excitedly, pointing at the thrashing woman who was repeatedly stabbing herself on the collar. Although, she did start shaking her head left and right, cutting the flesh and not merely stabbing it. “I made shake!” as he said this, the scalpels stopped and dropped itself on the floor.

Harry tilted his head and peered up at Voldemort who started chuckling.

“Yes,” said Voldemort, “it is rather suitable for the season.”

Harry beamed up at him.

**_You know, she’ll die any time now._ **

The woman’s neck was now a mess of blood and flesh, her breasts the only other thing in a worse state. Some of the mashed flesh was pulled up the opening when the scalpels were pulled out. Her eyes were rolled back and seemed to have finally lost consciousness, gag inside her mouth, dripping with saliva. She disemboweled some time earlier as well but Harry didn’t even bother with that one.

_::It smells so much of blood and waste… pain.::_

Harry startled when he felt something slither up to his legs.

 _::Nagi!::_ hissed Harry as he calmed himself down. _::Don’t startle me like that.::_

 _::Yes,::_ continued Voldemort, one hand rubbing at his chin, _::Harry can startle rather violently.::_

 _::Sorry.::_ said Harry sheepishly, caressing Nagini’s head when she’s up to his torso.

_::Childe! You should change, you smell too strongly of blood::_

_::Fine.::_

No use arguing with the snake; it was like you were arguing with a dead tree rather than a living snake you can understand and talk to.

Harry incinerated the, _possibly_ , alive body, air heavy from the pungent smell of burning flesh. Thank Merlin for magic!

Harry went to disentangle himself from Voldemort, all the while blushing when he realized they had stayed like that the whole time. Tommy was suspiciously silent as well, which led to Harry believing Tommy was being mean to him. Again.

**_What, no, Harry- I’m not being mean. You have no idea how adorable you look when you’re sulking—no what I mean is, you have no idea how boring it is when you refuse to acknowledge me for a whole hour!_ **

Harry pouted as he made his way to his room, Nagini slithering beside him. He knew exactly how it felt like when Tommy didn’t acknowledge him; it was like when he had never even knew about Tommy. Lonely—miserable.

He showered quickly and changed his clothes. Looking around to think of anything to do, he shrugged and went to Voldemort’s study, Nagini curled around him.

_::So Nagi…::_

_::What is it Childe?::_

_::Is it true that you went to hunt for a mate?::_

_::No.::_

Harry was about to sigh in relief but Nagini continued. _::I went to hunt for potential mates, found one and proceeded to—::_

_::Too much information!::_

By this time, they had arrived to their destination. Voldemort looked at him in question but Harry just shook his head, a horrified expression on his face.

Not really feeling like sitting on a chair or at the floor, Harry wanted to try to seat on Voldemort’s table but opted not to and proceeded to sit on said man’s lap.

“Voldy,” said Harry, pouting, “comfort me! Nagi just said she had sex with another! My mother, having sex! Too much information!”

Voldemort blinked before smirking. He faced Nagini and caressed her head.

_::Nagini, would you care to tell us about your earlier… adventures? I’m sure Harry here would enjoy your tale.::_

_::Of course, master! As you know, I went to search for—::_

Harry covered his ears but could still hear it clearly. He tried escaping but Voldemort trapped him so he stayed there, ears covered with his hands, a traumatized look on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order finds out Harry's gone-a-missing~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I forgot to update yesterday because I can barely move my arms and legs without the muscles there to spasm and quiver in protest... needless to say that swimming a total of 150 meters in breaststroke and 50 meters in freestyle is not a good idea if your body is not used to sports... I still won though! Hah! Take that you insulting mdrfkr! I hit first place in 100 meter breststroke!

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

“It seems they have just found out.”

It was first thing Harry heard when he entered. Voldemort sat behind his desk, hands going through his usual work. He didn’t even look up from whatever it was he was reading though his red eyes were shining with mirth.

“Who found out what?” Harry took his usual seat on the floor, mentioning that it was too normal and boring to seat on a chair. Or couch, as that is what the chairs in the manor looked like, though Voldemort insists on calling them chairs.

“Dumbledore’s merry band of flaming chickens.”

“Found out what?”

“That you’ve disappeared.”

Harry blinked. He forgot about that. They were too useless and unneeded in his eyes that he forgot that the bounty on his head was high for them. Maybe he should just bomb their location? No, he didn’t want to kill Kreacher. The elf was useful and he had come to regard it as a being to be respected, in the loosest meaning of the word.

“Severus had made a passing mention,” stated Voldemort, “hoping that I had the Boy wonder with me. Too bad I didn’t.”

Harry hummed, tracing patterns on the carpet, and Nagini curling up on his lap. “Too bad, indeed.” responded Harry. “He loved Lily, didn’t he?”

Voldemort made an agreeing noise, followed by a shuffling noise.

“He probably already had something coming up when he realized that I, Lily’s son, was a part of a prophecy he heard,” mused Harry as he turned his attention to Nagini. “He _was_ the one who reported it to you, right?”

“He had overheard it, yes,” answered Voldemort, sighing as he got sick of whatever it was he was doing. “He had pleaded me to spare the mudblood.”

Harry made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat. He really didn’t care about his parents. “Do remember that we are Half-bloods, Voldemort.”

“Doesn’t stop me from calling mudbloods, mudbloods.” sighed Voldemort, waving his hand in dismissal. “If I predicted Severus correctly, he may have made a binding contract of some sort to protect you.”

“Like an Oath? That would be something he would do.”

“Indeed.”

Silence settled over them as Voldemort poured over his work.

Harry spent that time reading a book he had brought along the way. It was one on warding that he has not read yet. Nagini draped her head on his and ended up dozing.

“How do you reckon they have reacted?”

Surprisingly, it was Voldemort who broke the silence. Harry, absorbed by the book, looked up with slightly bleary eyes.

“Huh?”

Voldemort rolled his eyes. “How do you think your… ‘friends’ reacted?”

“Probably ran around like headless chickens.” answered Harry with a giggle as he imagined how they would react. “Hermyger probably found out first, Mad-eye suspected first but never said anything, Ronny was oblivious until Hermyger says it, Molly Weasley tries to look for me but fails _then_ panics, Gin-gin panics, Lupin’s still away for a mission, then Black would be acting like a Black.”

“Dumbledore would, then, try to calm everyone down.” finished Voldemort.

“Pretty much, yes.” said Harry. “What has you so busy anyway?” Harry eyed the rolls of parchment and stacked books on Voldemort’s desk.

Sighing, Voldemort put down another book and wrote something down. “Azkaban.”

“How can Azkaban be the reason?”

“I need to release my followers.”

“Oh. I could just help.”

“I’m going through the plan after September first.”

Harry looked at him as if he was lacking. “What does that have to with anything?”

Voldemort answered with the same look. “You’d be at Hogwarts by then.”

“I won’t go back to Hogwarts.”

Voldemort opened his mouth to answer back but stopped. He looked at the teen sitting on the floor. “What?”

Harry rolled his eyes, putting his book down. He stated simply, “I won’t go back to Hogwarts. No one can make me.”

“What about… Tommy?”

“He’s perfectly fine with anything I decide as long as it doesn’t put me in unnecessary trouble, or as long as I’m with you.”

Voldemort looked at the teen in surprise. Seeing the on red eyed gaze, he saw the trust his Horcrux—it somehow sounded wrong to refer to _Tommy_ as his Horcrux when it protected Harry so much, though he himself now did as well, with a different reason, that is—had in him. He supposed that it was because the Horcrux knew _him_ , not the Voldemort everyone, besides Harry, knew about.

With the determination Harry was emitting, Voldemort nodded. “Though some time later, I would probably need someone inside Hogwarts to kill Dumbledore.”

Harry cheered and agreed.

As long as he didn’t get restrained like _that_ again, he’d happily do anything for Tommy and Voldemort, of course Nagi as well. Deciding that reading and planning was boring, Harry transformed into his Animagus form, careful to dislodge Nagini, and pounced on Voldemort. It wasn’t the first time he did it so Voldemort merely ignored it and let Harry perch on his head.

Harry carefully made sure that his claws were retracted before he landed. He let out a meow and made himself comfortable on the bald head.

_::When are you breaking into Azkaban?::_

_::Somewhere around November.::_

_::Move that earlier into the school year. It would give them the warning that things would take a deep turn, starting with their ‘savior’ going missing. The Prophet would have a field day.::_

_::Of course::_ said Voldemort, rolling his eyes. _::With their ‘savior’ labelled as an attention seeking liar and consequently going missing, then an Azkaban prison break out presumably Black being blamed, the Prophet would have a field day, starting with covering up the Ministry’s tracks.::_

Harry’s tail twitched in annoyance. _::We are destroying the Ministry, correct?::_

_::Of course we are.::_

_::What about Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape?::_

_::Malfoy can handle himself, or he would die. As for Snape, we could still dispose of him if he insists on siding with Dumbledore. That is, without the knowledge that you are, indeed, alive and quite happy to be around me.::_

_::I am happy here, thank you very much. They could all bugger themselves with a poisonous blade for all I care.::_

Voldemort shrugged, rolling up a piece of parchment. _::Of course you would say that.::_

Harry gave the impression of grinning—how he could do that while a feline was beyond any of them present. When Voldemort made to stand up, Harry climbed down to perch himself on the man’s shoulder, using his claws to hold himself.

Voldemort, though, was pleased with the teen’s response as well.

 Happy, indeed.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Frantic chatters were all that was heard when Remus Lupin entered the dining room of number 12 Grimmauld Place.

He had returned to his mission during these past weeks, which is, gathering information on Voldemort from werewolves and such. He was also keeping an eye out on those who wanted to join the order. There were those who felt the change in the air and feared whatever would happen to them or their family, he was there to offer help to them.

Remus had been doing this as soon as the news that Voldemort was out there reached Albus and had gathered the ‘old lot’.

The only time he had been pulled out from his mission was when they were tasked to retrieve Harry from his _repulsive_ relatives—he knew that the Dursleys weren’t the best people there, he was, after all, one of Lily’s friends and knew of Petunia’s dislike of magic, but he wasn’t able to do anything as he was a werewolf. Dumbledore said that it was for the best to have a familiar face to Harry when they came to get him, so Remus agreed. Sirius wanted to come too but it was too much of a risk as all of them knew.

Remus, admittedly, had been excited to see Harry again. The boy had been one of his best students after all, and the son of James, one of his closest friends. So when Harry’s scent _somehow_ changed he had been intrigued at first. But then Tonks had been injured and it was pulled away from his thoughts.

When he heard Harry say that particular sentence— _You are pathetic._ — he was surprised, and more than a bit confused. Harry never said anything like that with such venom, let alone to say that to _Ron,_ his best friend, Remus was at a loss.

But then, he noticed that the _beast_ inside him felt calm around Harry. He became more aware around the teen in the single week he had stayed at Grimmauld Place. That also resulted in him seeing Mad-eye Moody be wary around Harry. He remembered the grizzly ex-Auror approach him and Sirius to be more cautious around Harry. Sirius, of course, snorted at this, Remus, however, had a seed of doubt watered and grew with the words of the ex-Auror.

And when he received news that Harry has gone missing, who was to say that it wasn’t even Harry that went with them?

So, Remus went to the meeting with apprehension heavy in his mind. He sat down beside Sirius who looked uncharacteristically stoic and greeted the other man with a nod.

“How has things been here recently?” whispered Remus quietly to Sirius so as not to alert someone them to his presence; they were rather wary of his… other half.

“They didn’t even notice…”

Remus cast a side-long glance to his long-time friend. “Sirius?”

“They didn’t even notice! My godson has been missing for at least a week and they didn’t even notice! I already told them that I have not seen Harry around and They. Did. Not. Believe. Me! And now—” Sirius let out a sardonic chuckle, “now they’re panicking! Molly said it was best to leave him alone and now he’s missing! We don’t even know if he’s still alive or not!”

Remus sighed. “Siriu—”

“Don’t you even start! I promised, Remus! I promised! I promised that we would be a family and now he’s gone! I don’t even know where to start—heck, I can’t even leave this goddamned house! How can I, Remus? How can I just—”

“Get a hold of yourself Sirius!”

This stopped Sirius’ tirade and Remus sighed, hand running through his tawny hair in agitation. The apprehension was still there, as is the doubt, but guilt started to settle. How could he even think like that? Harry had been Harry except for a few changes that could be attributed to him growing up. And now _this_.

“We- I- Sirius…” Remus tumbled through his words. “Dumbledore- Dumbledore may be able to find him. Harry’s too strong to be defeated by you-know-who easily. He has survived encounters with _him_ than we did. He’s alive, Sirius. I don’t know _how_ I know but- just- he’s alive and that’s all there is to it.”

Sirius sighed and sent a weak smile at him but his previous stoic gait lessened.

“You know…” said Sirius quietly, “he had accomplished his Animagus transformation.”

Remus turned to him in surprise but noted the guilt in his proud smile.

“I- we- I promised that I won’t say but- Remus- it’s just—”

“You’re too proud of him to not brag?”

Sirius’ smile turned sheepish and Remus could only shake his head. He whispered under his breath, “Typical.”

“But- don’t say anything to anyone else, alright?”

“Of course.”

A few minutes later, Dumbledore arrived.

“Silence!”

Everyone quieted around and turned all of their attention to Dumbledore.

“I understand that Harry’s disappearance has caused much distress but we all need to calm down so we can find him.” His twinkling gaze travelled around the room and stopped briefly on Sirius before moving on. “Severus-” Here, he nodded at said man who looked uninterestedly around though his shoulders tense, “has been keeping an eye on Voldemort’s side but proved futile as—”

“He said he does not have Potter, Albus, do not twist his words. Potter may not have referred to the Potter we mean at all.” drawled Severus though his shoulders seem to tense even more. “His disinterest in the topic raises caution flags; he does not trust me anymore.”

Severus said this so nonchalantly that everyone was rendered quiet. Everyone but Sirius.

“Then what use are you, _Snivellus_ ,” growled Sirius in anger, “when even your boot licking to your _master_ is now useless?”

The atmosphere tensed as the ex-convict and Potions Master glared at each other.

“If you must know, _Black_ ,” shot Snape back with a sneer, “that even _I_ am more useful than you. Tell me, _Black_ , what can _you_ _do_ cooped up inside this house you call _home_?”

Sirius stood up, gaunt face flushed with anger. Remus’ hand immediately held onto his wrist, grip tightening as Sirius tried to pull away.

“Remus, let go! This bastard—”

“Sirius! This won’t accomplish anything at all!”

“It will! The world would be rid of another—”

“Sirius, my boy,” said Dumbledore in a calm voice, blue eyes twinkling furiously, “I ask that we all sit down and calmly talk. I know that you are worried about Harry but we will not be able to achieve our goal, and our goal is to find Harry himself.”

This calmed Sirius enough to sit down, eyes cast down unable to look up in shame.

“Right, sorry Headmaster.”

Moody snorted and Dumbledore’s attention was pulled to him.

“Anything you would like to say, Alastor?” asked Dumbledore.

Moody’s magical eye spun around, never settling at one place. Remus looked at the ex-Auror curiously, wondering what he would say, although Remus had a guess. He was the one who had warned both him and Sirius, after all. _And also the one to make you suspect your own cub_.

“Nothing, Albus.”

This surprised Remus. He would have thought that the paranoid ex-Auror would be the first one to warn everyone of possible danger but he chose to stay silent. The magical eye’s gaze landed on the werewolf and Remus shifted in uncomfort. No one ever enjoyed being under said eye’s gaze.

“I see,” said Dumbledore, “as far as our search goes, we have yet to find any leads. Molly, when was the last time you have seen Harry?”

“I- I don’t know, Albus,” said a crying Molly, “I- Harry had been rather down lately. Bags under his eyes, lack of sleep- oh, Albus, you should have seen him! So when I- I said that maybe he should rest for a while, and he did, I thought that we should probably let the poor boy mourn for that Cedric boy- Harry’s much too young to have witnessed something like that!”

“I see…” said Dumbledore, stroking his long white beard, brows furrowed in thought “how has he been before his disappearance, aside from what Molly has said?”

“Harry has been fine, Headmaster,” this came from Hermione Granger who was sitting along with the other children. Normally, they would not be allowed in the meeting but with Harry going missing, they needed all the information they could have. “But he had been disappearing as of his arrival; appearing at random intervals while exploring the house.”

Hermione sounded tart and business-like; her way of coping with having to experience extreme emotions. She was too worried and fearful _for_ Harry. He was her first friend—her first _best friend_ —and through their years at Hogwarts, he became her surrogate little brother who needed to be taken care of, but she cannot always be around, and that was what Ron was for. Ron viewed Harry as his best friend, his _best mate_. And they both failed Harry.

“Is that so?” said Dumbledore, eyeing Sirius in question. Sirius was the one permanently present in Grimmauld Place, much to the dog Animagus’ chagrin, but it now proved to be useful.

“My godson,” started Sirius in an uncharacteristic show of somberness, “had explored the whole house during his first week of stay, showing up every now and then in one of the rooms. This had angered Molly at first,” he ignored the indignant shout from the Weasley matron, “but Kreacher the house elf had seemingly cleaned up the entire house of the Dark Artefacts accumulated through the years.”

Snape snorted. “I was not aware that you were capable of talking professionally, Black.”

“Severus.”

This shut both of them up and Dumbledore gestured for Sirius to continue.

“During the next weeks, Harry was still disappearing randomly and reappearing as is. Kreacher, it seems, has taken a liking to him and had pointed him over to a hidden room—Harry said as much when asked. He even— sorry, he even found a long lost item that belongs to me. The rest was as Molly said.”

Dumbledore nodded absently, lost in his thoughts. “Has anyone asked the house elf—Kreacher, yet?”

There was silence. Why did they not think of that? Sirius snapped out of his daze to call on the elf.

“Kreacher!”

There was a loud pop that startled everyone and a sneering creature with big, floppy ears and big, tennis ball eyes appeared before Sirius.

“What cans Kreacher bes doing to blood traitor master and his mudbloods?”

Used to this, Sirius didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Do you know where Harry is?”

Kreacher looked in surprise before sneering, “Kreacher cans not be able to tells where Young Master Harry is. Kreacher was not informed.”

It was riddled with holes but no one could find an appropriate question to be answered correctly. The deranged house elf can twist words beyond compare and even Snape can’t have a straight answer from the elf.

“You can go now.” said Sirius, getting annoyed at the elf.

The elf sent a sneer before popping away loudly. Sirius sighed and sagged on his seat. Remus put a comforting hand on his shoulder and sent a weak smile.

“We’ll be able to find Harry.”

“We will.”

Dumbledore sighed as he reached a conclusion. “It seems as if Voldemort does not have Harry, yet knows something. Severus, I want you to continue on keeping an eye on the Dark Lord’s activities.”

“I’ll see what I can do to have back his trust,” nodded Severus.

“Remus, you ask around the wolves. They may be able to tell you something, but do not get your hopes up too much.”

Remus nodded.

“Molly, Arthur, I want the two of you, along with the children, to wait and see if Harry returns; it’s only a couple of weeks before you return to Hogwarts.”

“Of course, Headmaster,” came the general response of the group.

“Kingsley, _Tonks_ ,” Dumbledore put emphasis on the surname, “I ask of you to keep an eye on the going ons in the Ministry. Arthur, also, keep your ears open; people tend to be more talkative around your department.”

“Of course, Albus.”

“Dung,” Dumbledore called the attention of the almost always drunk wizard, “ask around your… _clients_ , perhaps they may be able to give you information on either Harry, or the Dark Lord.”

“’course.”

Molly managed to grimace slightly at the wizard. All of them knew he probably won’t do any of those.

“Dedalus, Hestia, Sturgis, Emmeline, I want you all to continue what you were doing.”

They all nodded in response.

“Alastor—”

“Yes, yes Albus.”

Dumbledore sighed and turned to look at the only person he had not given an order to yet.

“Sirius,” said Dumbledore gravely, “I ask of you to stay here until things settle down and we be able to catch Pettigrew to clear your—”

“Bullshit!” Sirius stood up in rage, Remus barely able to hold him back even with the added strength from him being a werewolf. “Harry—My Godson is out there! He could be dead for all I know! I won’t stay here knowing that I could have—that I could have done something! Ministry be damned! I swore to him, Albus! And I won’t be breaking that promise anytime soon!”

“I know, Sirius,” said Dumbledore cordially though sincerely, “we just have to track down Peter Pettigrew to clear your name, then you will be able to step foot out of this house without danger. Meanwhile, you can try to search for Harry in any way you can _inside_ this house. Did he, or did he not leave his possessions here?”

Sirius clenched his fist and let out a gusting breath. He swallowed before he answered, “Yes- yes, of course.”

He sat down and Remus sent him a weak encouraging smile. Sirius returned it with a crooked smile of his own.

“Now,” said Dumbledore to gain everyone’s attention back, “everyone has their own assigned tasks. We must all stand united for the looming danger that Voldemort poses to be. Harry may not be here right now, but we can all do our best to make sure that one of ours is safe and protected once more.”

With this, Dumbledore dismissed them, leaving through the floo with the others, leaving Sirius, Remus, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys to their thoughts.

The twins were hunched over, whispering furiously to each other, Ron was comforting Hermione, Arthur was doing the same to Molly, and Ginny was looking horrible, sitting beside Bill who was present, giving silent comfort to his little sister.

Sirius stood up, Remus following him.

“Where are you going?” asked Remus as he followed Sirius briskly.

“Going to do what Dumbledore said,” answered Sirius tersely.

They entered what seemed to be Ron’s shared room with Harry, if the bright orange walls and Chudley Canons posters were anything to go by. Sirius made his to Harry’s bed. It was neat for a teenage boy but that may be just because it had remained untouched for days. Looking over the trunk at the foot of the bed; it was clean, unlike the one at the other side of the room where clothes were strewn around along with some parchment and quills.

Sirius crouched down and opened the trunk.

“What are you looking for?” asked Remus, going over the side of the bed where there were rolls of parchment neatly arranged, an ink bottle off to the side.

“Anything,” said Sirius, riffling through the contents of the organized mess the trunk is, “anything that might give light to where my godson is.”

Remus nodded, unrolling a roll of parchment and seeing that it was homework, rolled it back and checked the others as well. All of them contained unfinished essays written in Harry’s messy scrawl. It _was_ too neat—too _clean_ for a teenager of Harry’s age, and a male at that. Kreacher _had_ been rather close to Harry, so maybe the elf cleaned it up for him.

Standing up, Remus saw the empty owl cage hanged near the window. He hadn’t seen Hedwig—Harry’s owl—at all even when they arrived at Grimmauld Place and the following days after that. Maybe Harry instructed her to go to Hogwarts?

Remus was startled when Sirius let out a surprised yelp, holding a familiar parchment.

“I didn’t know kitten had this!” said Sirius, looking at the bleeding letters of ‘ _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP’_ he let out a barking laugh. “This brings me back to old times… now if I see the Invisibility Cloak… here it is!”

“Kitten?” asked Remus, smiling over to Sirius, glad that his old friend got out of his depression, at least for the moment. He already knew Harry was in possession of the map.

“Yeah,” said Sirius with a proud smile, putting down the piece of parchment, “Remember when I told you he accomplished his animagus transformation? Well, turns out he’s a cat, though small so he’s a kitten. I don’t know what kind but he looked like a smaller version of a leopard…”

Remus smiled. “I’m sure James would be rolling in his grave because his son did not have a ‘ _majestic creature that is a Stag_ ’”

Sirius let out another barking laugh. “That, he would.”

Remus took a thoughtful look on his face. “Maybe he used his animagus form to do what your large dog form can’t?” said Remus teasingly but froze when what he said registered. He looked at Sirius who looked equally as frozen.

“You don’t think—?”

“Maybe… the others don’t know, right?”

“Kitten asked me not to tell the others.”

“So you didn’t—Sirius! You should have told everyone when you realized Harry went missing!”

“You were fine with me not telling earlier, Remus! And I can’t just break Harry’s trust—”

“This isn’t about trust anymore, Sirius! This is about the safety of Harry—”

“—I know that—”

“—do you realize just how much trouble Harry can get into if he’s just a cat?! How can you tell that he could transform back? He could have been stuck in his animagus form _somewhere_ that is not at all near here? Dumbledore could have alerted the others to look for a cat! You could have—”

“—I know! Alight, I know! I should have told the others _what Harry didn’t want to_ and risk _my godson’s_ trust, which, might I add, is hard to get back once broken!”

“So you would risk his own _safety and life_ which, might I add, _cannot_ _be taken back_ _once gone_!”

Sirius abruptly shut his mouth and looked down in shame. “I- I kn- I’m sorry… I- I didn’t think—”

“ _That’s it_ , Sirius! You _didn’t think_! That’s what you always say—that’s what you _always_ don’t do! You don’t think! Just like when you tricked Severus into going to the Whomping Willow when we were at Hogwarts!”

Tense silence mounted over them, Remus panting after his rant, Sirius looking down in shame and anger.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Remus sighed, “C’mon, let’s just finish here…”

Sirius responded with resuming to his riffling through the trunk. Remus sighed again.

“I- I’m sorry, Sirius. I know I went out of line but—”

“Yes- a- I know what you meant, it’s just- Harry- he’s my godson, you know- my only godson. I have been in Azkaban for nearly twelve years blaming myself for what happened to James and Lily, for thinking that you were the spy when it was actually Peter all along, and thinking that I will not be able to see any of you again…”

“Sirius…”

Silence settled once again but it was not as heavy as before, in fact, it seemed lighter. Sirius sent a weak smile to reassure the werewolf that it was fine and they resumed to their earlier task. Remus went to help Sirius when he finished with the scraps of parchment inside a drawer; they were all blank.

Soon enough, which was unsatisfactory, they finished without a single thing to clue them in where Harry might be. There was a set of knives in there but they were all kitchen knives that, as Remus said, were used _for_ cooking; there was only a faint smell of animal blood. Both of them had a rather unpleasant reminder that Harry stayed with the Dursleys.

“Well, at least we know that he left willingly,” said Sirius, putting back all of the items they took out and somehow never getting them in order like they were before.

“Yeah,” agreed Remus, watching Sirius struggle with amusement, “though how are we going to tell them that without telling them that Harry is an Animagus?”

Sirius looked at him in surprise, “You aren’t going to tell them?”

“No, I would tell the Dark Lord so he could instruct his Death Eaters to look for a kitten.” Remus rolled his eyes. “If you were so desperate, we could just tell them that Harry took his Invisibility Cloak with him. He can’t have been stuck in his Animagus at all if you saw him; I know you would overreact just as I did if Harry ever flunked transformation.”

Sirius processed all of this before sending a sly grin to the werewolf, “I didn’t know you could be sneaky like that.”

Remus shrugged, “Comes with having to survive being a werewolf.” Sirius sent an apologetic look before Remus waved it away with a grimace, “Like I said, werewolf. I don’t like being one either.”

Sirius dropped it and instead went back to their topic, “So what are we going to do with the cloak then? It’s not like we can just hide it anywhere here since Molly will probably find it.”

“We use Kreacher of course,” answered Remus patiently.

“Huh,” blinked Sirius, “why didn’t I think of that. Kreacher!”

The house elf did not even bother with a greeting and merely sneered.

“Can you contact Harry?” asked Sirius for checking. The immediate answer was no though both of them doubted it. It was already a lost cause. “I want you to hide this where anyone in this house, and Dumbledore and Snape, can’t see, detect, hear, or feel at all, got it? After that, report back to me.”

The elf nodded and took the cloth before disappearing with a loud pop meant to irritate them—which it actually did so, Kreacher: 1 Everyone: 0.

A few minutes already passed and the elf wasn’t back yet. Sirius was about to call the elf again when a loud pop startled them.

At first, they thought it was Kreacher but another look told them it was a different elf.

“Dobby bes here looking for the great Harry Potter!”

Remus stared at the frantic looking house elf. Remus asked Sirius, “Who is he?”

Before Sirius could answer, Ron and Hermione entered the room.

“What happened? We heard a loud noise—Dobby?”

The pillow case clad house elf turned to Hermione, “Mister wheezy! Miss mione!” wailed the house elf, “I’s bes here to talk to the great Harry Potter!”

“Dobby- Dobby, calm down!”

Once the elf stopped its wailing, Hermione asked him, “What’s wrong, Dobby?”

“Th- The Dark Lord bes planning some thing bad. Very bad!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Lord bes doing the planning thingies hes bes done!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's another chapter~! The longest in the entire story by the way (9400 something words) *cackles*

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Thanks to Dobby the house elf’s warning, the Order was ready when the alert came. It was doubted at first but Severus had confirmed it after returning from a meeting with the Dark Lord. They were not aware when so Dumbledore had split them into groups to survey Privet Drive once it was confirmed.

So when Mundungus Fletcher ran into Grimmauld place a week and a half later, all were present aside from the children who were to stay in their rooms every night. They made fast work of apparating to Privet Drive, where the home of Harry Potter stood.

Screams and explosions were what greeted the Order once they arrived. Immediately, almost as if it was anticipated, wards were erected around the chaos, preventing anyone from escaping and preventing anyone outside the wards to see or hear anything that is happening inside. And it was not constructed by the Order, nor can they be taken down because of the sheer strength it held.

What they were expecting was utter chaos of muggles running around, away from the cloaked and masked Death Eaters, but all they saw was the chaos of destroyed structures and debris that sometimes had spatters of blood. No muggles, no Death Eaters taking chase. All were inside houses, the Death Eaters presumably apparating from house to house, casting spells from _Reducto_ to _Fiendfyre_ to destroy, torturing in the privacy the locked up houses.

“Albus,” Moody lumbered over to the wizened old wizard, “there are wards all around. Every house is warded, it is practically impossible to get out or enter. Unless you’re a Death Eater.” Moody’s magical eye kept on spinning around, trained in one of the identical houses. “There is only one Death Eater per house,” declared Moody, scanning the area. “At this rate, this place will be nothing more than hell before we even manage to take down the wards around one house.”

“Whoever made these wards made it impenetrable even to most experienced Curse Breakers…” said Bill Weasley, looking around in morbid fascination, wand in hand.

The group looked around in shock and horror as two other houses exploded into flames, screams dying at the same time as the houses were engulfed by the flame. All of them knew what fate had done to them.

Molly Weasley went pale when she caught sight of a bloody hand in one of the remains of a collapsed house; smell of burnt flesh permeated through the air though none paid attention, too shocked to be able to do anything.

“Dung,” started Sirius Black who was standing behind them, looking around knowing that Harry, at least, wasn’t with his relatives anymore, “how were you able to come to us?”

They looked at said man only to cast _Protego_ as Mundungus sent several curses to them, eyes dilated as if he was not in control of himself.

“Shit.”

Mundungus let out an insane laugh, “You won’t be able to stop this,” he sent a Killing Curse to Shacklebolt who was able to block it with a summoned debris, cackling all the way, “you see, we’re almost finished here and Severus, your dear spy, is quite happy with what he is doing… against his will.”

This was followed by a loud explosion and the distinct voice of Severus Snape let out a laugh.

“What did you do to Severus?” asked Dumbledore, twinkle in his eyes completely gone and narrowed in righteous anger.

Mundungus sent another Killing curse at Shacklebolt, hitting nothing when the Auror dodged, “Oh nothing, just giving him something that is his field of expertise…”

Remus growled, green eyes replaced by amber. The werewolf lunged at him but he dodged with grace the real Mundungus never could have.

“Ooh, you’ve got a werewolf here!” exclaimed what seemed to be Mundungus mockingly, “Never thought you would be in cohorts with such a dark creature, _Headmaster Dumbledore_.”

“What did you do to Dung?” asked Moody, both eyes narrowed, “I can see that you aren’t using polyjuice but the only spell that could control people is the _Imperius_ and that requires the user to be at close distance with the victim. We’re the only people here.”

Mundungus let out a laugh, “How can you be sure?” With that, the dilated look vanished, and Mundungus Fletcher fell, unconscious.

Dumbledore let out a defeated sigh eyes looking around only to stop when he caught sight of number 4 standing tall and _whole_ , not at all like its destroyed and burnt neighbors. And hope, even though small, rose within him. He braced himself and faced his comrades.

“We must do our best to stop this from continuing anymore.”

Everyone nodded to each other. They broke away in groups to at least _try_ even though they knew it would be futile. They stopped, however, when Dumbledore called their attention.

“Alastor,” said Dumbledore, still staring at number 4, “can you see anyone inside number 4 Privet Drive?”

Moody’s magical eye swerved to the only house standing untouched in the chaos, “Only one person is inside. From what I can tell, it is male. The wards are too thick to see anything else other than his form.”

“Bill, I want you to check the wards there,” instructed Dumbledore, making his way to the house, gesturing to the others to do what they can.

“Of course,” responded Bill as he jogged up to the house, resolve focused on being able to help despite knowing whatever they could do would only prove futile unless time stopped and gave them enough time to bring down every single ward containing the residents and houses to their terrible fate.

He immediately ran a scan to the wards and found, to his surprise, that it was riddled with so many holes. It was all easy to break through, though it was layered by so many of its type. He finished after only a minute without even breaking a sweat. It was as if—

“Headmaster,” said Bill urgently to the wizard holding the door knob, “it was _too_ easy to break through, what if this is a trap?”

Dumbledore’s eyes got their twinkle back, although dimmed, “Of course it is, my boy.” He entered the house and dodged at the green light that greeted him.

“Tom.”

“Dumbledore.”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry sighed for what seemed like a thousandth time.

He sat on the cemented ground, head on top of his folded arm, flicking pieces of gravel on the ground. He was bored, so, so, so, so bored. Can’t Voldemort have allowed him to go to at least one house to have some fun? Of course not, he was to stay somewhere not in Privet Drive after he had retrieved the Dursleys and played tour guide to the order.

He was the one to create the wards! It isn’t just fair.

**_You_ were _the one who suggested all of this._**

Harry sighed, _Yeah yeah._

**_He did allow you to play with the Order though._ **

Harry grinned, his emerald green and blood red eyes gleaming with mirth as he remembered their faces.

_I guess it’s fine because of that. Although, I do wish I could have done more than that, perhaps taking one of them? I already want to start on my Kick-the-Bucket list._

Tommy receded though Harry’s other eye remained red. It became like that a few days ago, Tommy and Voldy said that it was probably because of the continuous exposure to Voldemort’s magic and Tommy, being a Horcrux that had merged with Harry, it had a physical effect.

Raiding Privet Drive was a decision Voldemort made which Harry found out from Kreacher who heard it from Dobby after giving him his Invisibility Cloak saying that Sirius Black instructed the deranged house elf. This led to Harry questioning the elf about what Sirius Black knew—momentarily skipping the ‘raiding Privet Drive without his knowledge’ part—and the house elf happily told him everything, complete with insults. Harry was happy to note that the Order was running around in circles.

Harry was rather adamant that Voldemort would attack Privet Drive without his knowledge; he still had a play date with his cousin after all and if Voldemort _accidentally_ (this came from the man’s mouth) dispatches them, his playdates would be cancelled and he would be removed three playmates. After asking (badgering) Voldemort for two days straight—yes, including the nights—the man had relented with a sigh, Harry cheering. And the plans were altered.

Harry had wanted Severus to be killed but the Potions Master was still of much use to Voldemort so he asked the man if he could just, a little bit, break the greasy git. Voldemort had agreed—reluctantly, might the man himself add—hence the way Severus acts like a maniac yet well-behaved (Harry giggled at this) when it comes to potions.

Next were the methods. Though Harry liked the idea of utter chaos, they didn’t really need the muggles to know about magic so he had set up the wards. Voldemort agreed because Harry could give a huge headache when he put his mind to it.

All these were fine and all but then the Order knew and both Voldemort and Tom would be damned if they let Harry up against them though both knew the teen was very much capable of holding his own. Nagini had a hissy fit when she found out that Harry will be going to a raid that the Order knew about.

Thus why Harry was sitting in a random place, flicking and kicking pebbles and gravel, sulking for all he was worth.

_Hey Tommy, can I really not take Kingsley or Diggle?_

There was silence as Tommy pondered over his question.

**_You could. Probably. Just don’t get seen by the Order. Nagini will have our hides if she even smells faint blood on you._ **

Harry jumped up in excitement, clapping delightedly.

_Yes! Thanks Tommy!_

He apparated directly into Privet Drive, the wards allowing him entrance as he was the one who created it. Happily, Harry noted that the Order split themselves up into small groups, two to three people in one house. Over half of Privet Drive was already destroyed, the _Fiendfyre_ taking its time to burn houses to the ground.

Harry cackled, “Idiots.”

He felt the layers of weak wards he put around number 4 fall down. He knew Voldemort was there so ignored it and pretty much a minute or so afterwards, curses started to fly.

Harry made quick work of activating the containment wards he already set up around his once house. Only Voldemort would be able to leave. As Bill Weasley was the only Curse Breaker the Order had, he was probably inside as well, so maybe he could die. Pity. Red hair is said to be rare. Or they could have just suffered from protein deficiency…? Who knew, Weasleys weren’t known for their money.

Knowing that it was only a matter of time before the raid was over, Harry scanned the messy street, looking for a certain black and bald wizard. He’d probably be only able to see the clothes—not that he was a racist, he just hated the man especially when the first thing he said to him was _that_.

Harry found his target with Tonks and Hestia Jones trying in vain to blast the ward protected door in a particularly noisy house. It was one of the odd houses that still contained living residents. Though, when he noticed exactly what house it is, Harry knew who the owners were. It was the Polkiss’.

He apparated directly behind Tonks startling them, and pointed his holly wand to the house.

“ _Bombarda maxima._ ”

All of the supports of the house exploded, the wards allowing his magic to pass through it. This stopped the noises inside the house, not at all caring about the Death Eater inside.

“ _Incendio._ ”

And the house was lit with fire.

“H-Harry…?”

Harry glanced at Tonks who was looking at him with shock, letting his gaze pass over her, he noticed Kingsley and Jones were the same. Harry grinned brightly at them, not bothered that he was found since it _was_ his intention. Not one of them will live to tell the tale though.

“Hi Tonks!” said Harry cheerily, waving his hand, “Been a while! Unfortunately, we don’t have much time so…” here, Harry trailed off and pointed his wand to a confused Jones.

“ _Diffindo._ ”

Her head was severed from her body, spurting a bit of blood as it slid off and her body falling down at their feet. Tonks screamed, attracting the others’ attention and Kingsley pointed his wand to Harry.

Harry’s grin turned feral, “Sorry but I really need to cut this short, Kings, you coming with me!” He wandlessly stunned the man and used a spare portkey to transport him to where the Dursleys are. Turning to Tonks, he let a sharp smile grace his mouth, “ _Reducto._ ”

Tonks dodged the spell, showing that she was an Auror despite being clumsy.

“Wait, wait! I changed my mind!” exclaimed Harry, creating obstacles so the others will be hindered, “You’re a Metamorphmagus and I still have my concerns so, you also coming with moi!”

Giggling, Harry sent various spells in fast completion and Tonks was unable to dodge the third one, releasing a scream from her as it was the _Cruciatus_ curse. Harry cut it off and threw another portkey to her, activating as soon as it made contact. He put up tons of wards, along with what is already there, around the cell so whatever they do, they won’t be able to escape using either magical or muggle means. Or both. Who knew how creative they can be.

Harry sent a smirk to the arriving group, only his red eye visible to them. He let out a laugh when he heard the gasp of Molly Weasley before apparating away just as there was a loud explosion coming from number four, a figure he knew as the Dark Lord exiting.

“ _Morsmordre!”_

The Dark Mark appeared in the night sky, marking the place as a place where unseen horrors has been done, giving the intention of a reminder to those who survived the war.

The wards fell down with ferocity that had the Order members knocked down, loud cracks of apparation echoing around them.

With that, the Order was left alone with the burning houses and debris, screams dying out as the last house collapsed. It had been a hopeless cause, not one of them able to do anything that could have saved the people that resided in the small suburb.

“Albus—” gasped Molly as the battered form of the wizard ambled his way to them, “Albus what- what happened- this- we- we couldn’t do anything _at all_.”

“I apologize,” said the wizened old wizard, eyes cast down in apology, “If I had perhaps done more—”

“You’ve done what you can,” growled Moody, trudging over the gathering group “It was those bastards that did this.”

“Hey, where’s Dora?” asked Sirius, looking around once he arrived with Remus.

No one answered, Molly holding back her tears and Arthur looking away. They had been _there_. They had seen Tonks be taken and they hadn’t done _anything_.

“Bill…” Molly looked around frantically. “Where’s Bill?”

“I believe we should return back before the Aurors arrive,” surprisingly, this came from Sirius, grey eyes dark with anger.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement and they all apparated back to their headquarters.

As soon as they arrived, Sirius kicked a chair in anger, piecing together what had happened. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. They all ignored the screech coming from the painting of the late Walburga Black, too absorbed in grief. Finally, Molly broke the silence.

“Headmaste- Albus,” whispered Molly, eyes unseeing, “Wh- where’s Bill?”

Dumbledore sagged, looking every bit as old as he really is, “Voldemort killed him.”

“What- what do you mean Voldemort killed him? Bill can’t- Bill didn’t even have to be there!” screeched Molly in shock and misery, the words registering into her mind, “I can’t- Bill he- I- Why didn’t you do anything! You- Albus, you were there! Why didn’t you- why didn’t you protect him?! He- he’s only a child! I- shouldn’t have- no- no, no, no, no, that can’t be true Bill—” She broke down crying.

Arthur hugged his wife tightly, shushing her under his breath, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Muffled steps reached their ears and the door opened to admit the children.

“Mum—?” said Ron, walking over to his mother along with Fred, George, and Ginny, “Wh-what’s wrong?”

Molly continued with her mantra, hands gripping tightly to nothing.

“Hey—”

“—we noticed—”

“—the distinct lack—”

“—of certain—”

Hermione elbowed the both of them, brown eyes tearing up as she pieced together what happened. She remained silent off to the side as the mourning family supported each other; Ron to the side along with the twins not knowing how to deal with something like this and Ginny with her mother.

“He-” whispered Remus, leaning over the wall eyes distinctly misty, “ _He_ was there? What about Tonks— Shacklebolt— Hestia—?”

Arthur was the one who answered, voice hoarse, “They- _someone_ attacked them. Both Kingsley and Tonks were taken but… Hestia- she—” Arthur did not continue, knowing that they knew what he meant. Remus didn’t know what’s better, being killed or being captured.

Molly calmed a little, her eyes blazing with fury and determination, knowing _whose_ fault it was that _this_ happened to them. She could mourn later, when all of this is done. She is a mother first but then, she’s also a war veteran. She had survived then, she would too, now, and she’ll be taking her family with her even at the cost of her own life.

“ _He_ would pay,” she declared softly yet strongly, stroking her little girl’s hair, “That- that _bastard_ will pay for everything he had done to those innocent lives.”

“Voldemort may have done a great impact now,” nodded Dumbledore, “but we can still fight for those who have fallen.”

This brought silence over them. Eventually, Molly stood up.

“It’s still a bit early,” said Molly, her voice cracking and dulled but she tried, “so we can still eat,” she knew no one could eat right now but she still offered. She made her way inside the kitchen, the others going to the dining room.

Molly entered the dining room with glasses of water, serving it to them. Everyone sat in silence.

“Arthur,” said Dumbledore solemnly, “who took Kingsley and young Nymphadora?”

“I-” started Arthur only to clear his throat, “I don’t know—”

“He had red eyes,” Molly cut him off, “He looked like _Him_ but younger. I was not able to see his face but his eyes were red; the kind of red _His_ eyes are. He used a child, Albus, a _child_! He didn’t even look any taller than Ginny!”

Remus grew horrified, “He- _He_ would use a _child_?”

“That child could have been Harry!” exclaimed Sirius, throwing the glass of water to the side, the glass shattering upon impact, “Have you seen what he- _they_ did to Snape? Let’s not forget the one who controlled Dung!”

And Sirius was correct. He and Remus saw Snape and he looked _wrecked_ ; his greasy hair even more matted, pale skin took on a sickly sheen and what changed most was the wildness, the _madness_ in his usually blank obsidian black eyes. Even Sirius, when he escaped Azkaban, looked better.

“That- that couldn’t have been Harry—” Molly was cut off.

“That could have been,” growled Moody as he took a swig from his flask, “I’m not telling you the he _is_ the child you saw but he _could_ be.”

Ron bristled, “Harry would never—”

“Never side with You-Know-Who?” snorted Moody, “Watch what you believe in, boy, you could be as much of a Death Eater as is Lucius Malfoy. Potter may not _willingly_ join the Dark Lord, but who ever said one needs to be _willing_ when it comes to war?”

“Alastor.”

The ex-Auror snorted before backing down, “I’m just telling the boy the truth.”

“Controlled Dung?” questioned the twins in unison, trying to steer away the conversation from such a topic.

“Dung was controlled by someone but it went to the extent that he seemed to have been _possessed_ but he only showed the signs of being _Imperiused_ , in fact, he forgot everything that happened this day.” It was Remus who answered, knowing that everyone needed to know it for precautions.

The twins looked to each other, blinked, then looked at the snoring Mundungus, “How can he sleep when he forgot a _whole_ day?”

Remus shrugged absentmindedly, too lost in his whirling thoughts. Moody had a point in what he said. He glanced uncertainly at Sirius who kept on clenching and unclenching his hand.

What would they do if—not _when_ , he would never be able to believe that—Harry, indeed, became an enemy?

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“What are you going to do with the other two?”

Voldemort strode in the dungeons, walking in on Harry pulling out a bone from the baby whale’s leg. He quickly threw the bone to the side, landing with a clack on the floor and dripping blood where it hit. Harry faced him with a bright grin, smudges of blood marring his pale face, emerald green and blood red eyes gleaming deliriously. Harry waved his blood soaked hands.

“Hullo Voldemort!”

Grateful that at least Harry’s… playmate was gagged, he made his way closer, casting his gaze to the holding cells. One was holding the unconscious walrus and horse that Harry calls relatives, and the other—

“You bastard!” snarled a woman with a hair that is a mixture of red, lime green, and black, “What have you done to Harry?!”

“Tonks, calm down,” said a black, bald man.

“Don’t tell me to be calm, Kingsley! Harry’s been missing for a while now and this- this _bastard_ has him!”

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. The man was pretty high up in the DMLE and Tonks was pretty new yet skillful in disguise, both are, or were, Aurors, also members of Dumbledore’s vigilante group.

“Nothing will happen if you keep snarling like that,” said Shacklebolt in reason.

“Actually,” cut in Harry, throwing away another piece of bone from the other leg, “something _would_ happen if she keeps snarling like that,” Harry poked the castrated part of his cousin, Voldemort wincing as he imagined how much that must have hurt, “you’ll get wrinkles, Tonks! Wait, _can_ you get wrinkles? No, don’t answer that, I’ll try to find out later.”

“Harry, you’ll need to sleep. Nagini will bite me if you didn’t follow your _::instructions by mama Nagi::_ even once,” sighed Voldemort, wondering at the unfairness that Nagini sometimes posed to be.

Harry pouted, “Fine. I know how Nagi is when she gets snippy. I’m just doing this to save your sorry arse.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes, “I feel so loved.”

Harry stuck his tongue out before going back to the baby killer whale.

“Harry! Harry, what are you- what has this bastard done to you?!”

Voldemort glanced at her then at Harry who was healing the gash he created to pull out the bones and then moving on to the arms to do the same while giggling at the reactions he got. Deciding that he couldn’t do anything better, Voldemort sent a dark smirk over to the woman.

“You want to know what I did to him?” asked Voldemort dramatically pulling out his wand, “I—”

“Don’t even think about pulling anything remotely suggestive, Voldemort!”

“I wasn’t!”

“Really?”

“I really wasn’t!”

How can Harry know what he was going to do? It wasn’t like Harry can read his mind.

“You know I can’t read your mind, that’s just ridiculous.”

Voldemort’s finger twitched. _Right_ , he can’t. Harry just spent too much time with Nagini and gained unexplainable skills in reading faces. Which, unfortunately, included his despite his control in his emotions.

“I did nothing to him,” said Voldemort instead, throwing a _Cruciatus_ to the black, bald man, relishing in his screams, “technically, that is.” He ended the curse and smirked at the snarling woman. He saw the fear in her fiery eyes and laughed cruelly, “I won’t do anything too damaging to you as you’re Harry’s guests and I already see the sign of the curse on you so I won’t bother.”

“Hey Voldemort,” called Harry, throwing away another piece of bone, “do you thi- never mind, leaving dear Dudders alive would have better effects to Uncle and Aunty,” Harry quickly healed the gashes smiling happily, “So Big D! You get to be with Uncle Verny and Aunty Petty for a while, aren’t you excited to see your parents? Well, I am. For you, that is. I don’t think I want to see your or my parents.”

Harry removed the gag from beach ball and giggled as it tried to lunge at him despite the pain, failing when his limbs were mostly boneless. Voldemort wondered just _how_ the boy can still move through _that_. Magic probably. And Harry. Harry was an explanation in of himself.

“F- F… uck y-… youuu…”

Harry cackled, “Oooh, look Voldy! He’s growing a backbone!” Laughing cheerily, Harry picked up the littered bones, “You seem to be missing some _things_ Diddykins! I’ll give it back to you, don’t worry, but it’s up to you if you’re still going to use it.” He dragged the slowly losing conscious body and threw it to the holding cell along with the bones.

“H-Harry…” pleaded Tonks, hair turning a dull brown, “Harry, please- what- what happened—”

Voldemort conjured an arm chair and sat down to watch. This would prove amusing if the, ah, _guests_ wouldn’t be _rude_ (the word has a different definition when it comes to Harry, in fact, a lot of words have different meaning to the teen).

Harry turned to them with a grin. He giggled slightly at the image Tonks and Shacklebolt made.

“Nothing happened,” said Harry, walking closer to the two, “Well, Tommy did, I guess,” He crouched so he was level with her face, his red and green eyes gleaming, “You see, he’s the only who held _enough_ control to stop me, and he’s the only one I chose to listen to because he _cared_. So, when he finally pulled out all stops, I have my freedom, my _Free Reign_.”

“You’re not Harry Potter…” this came from Kingsley.

Harry cocked his head to the side and giggled, “See, he gets it. I’m not Harry _Potter_ , never had been. You created _him_ and I was forced to take the role _when you bastards declared me as a fucking hero_.”

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself and plopped himself down on the floor, gesturing to the other cell holding his relatives, “ _They_ were also _forced_ to care for someone like me, a _freak_ , and of course what would happen? You know, it’s quite the same case to me,” said Harry with a frown, “See, it’s your entire fault that this _happened,_ as you said it before, so you can only blame yourselves.”

Tonks turned to glare at Voldemort who looked on in amusement, “What did you do to him!”

“Yeah, what did you do to him?” asked Harry in mirth, knowing that they meant the different person.

“You know what I did to him,” answered Voldemort, offering a bottle of butterbeer to Harry who took it happily and chugged it down. After finishing the bottle, Harry decided that Voldemort made for a good pillow and transformed into his Animagus form to curl up on Voldemort’s lap. He refused to deal with them a second longer.

“You _fucking bastard_!” snarled Tonks in anger, “Answer me! Harry- Harry can’t be this—”

“And what do you think Harry _should_ be, girl?” asked Voldemort, absentmindedly scratching behind Harry’s ear gaining him a purr in response.

“Tonks stop now.”

“No Kingsley! This _bastard_ has already done—”

“Nymphadora!” this stopped Tonks, “Nothing you would say would change anything! We’re here because of him, the one you defend!”

Voldemort was almost impressed at the man’s common sense, which a lot of wizards in the Ministry lacked. Almost.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt, correct?” asked Voldemort rhetorically, standing up carrying the sleeping form of Harry, “I believe your name is written in Harry’s list. I do not know what kind of list that is but it’s quite long.”

With that, Voldemort left them in the dark of the dungeons. Nagini _really_ would bite him even if her venom does not work on either him or Harry. And it hurt like a bitch.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“Good morning!”

Tonks shot up from her position curled up on the cold ground. She looked to find the source of the voice and her sight met one red and one green.

“Harry!”

She almost felt relieved to see him but then remembered what had occurred the night before. She and Kingsley had been attacked on a raid, and then got captured. All this done by the one in front of her who looked entirely too cheerful inside a cell.

She refused to believe that _that_ is Harry.

“I told you already, Tonks, I’m Harry,” said the teen making his way to the other occupant of the cell and dumping water on him while letting out giggles at the yelp he got, “Tell you what, I’ll give you proof aside from my wand. Wait, no, no need for that. I don’t really need you to believe me.”

Kingsley made eye contact with her, conveying his intentions, and she blinked to let him know she got it. Kingsley twitched a finger and they made to lunge at the boy but he quickly apparated outside the cell.

Harry let out a giggle, “None of that, now,” admonished Harry. “I was trying to decide which one of you goes first. Hnn… maybe you can go at the same time? Oh, I haven’t done that before! So, okay, you both go at the same time! After Dudders here and Aunty Petty and Uncle Verny.”

Tonks paled as did Kingsley, knowing what would happen.

“Oh don’t be scared Nymphadora!” said the heterochromic eyed boy while he levitated the three bodies out and chained them to the walls smiling all the while, “I’ll just experiment with you to see if some of my curiosities are correct, and Kings is in my list, so you’re still different from my dear relatives. I think Voldy wants to be the one to finish them though so they’ll take residence here for a bit more until Voldy finishes with his work.”

The Harry Tonks knew was the awkward teenager with a bit of inferiority complex, not this- this _monster_ that acts so _docile_ with the Dark Lord yet ferocious and merciless; _insane, mad._ She jerked when a scream and loud swearing erupted from where _not_ Harry is.

They were _muggles_! Innocent, _clueless_ muggles. They never should have even been here, or take sight of magic _at all_. But deep down, a voice told her that muggles aren’t exactly innocent, and that these muggles are _in the know_ ; they were the blood relatives of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. They were not at all clueless.

She watched in horror as _not_ _Harry_ brutally ripped the horse woman’s hair, her scalp tearing away from her head. Tonks shivered in fear and revulsion. Her Auror training _should_ have said what she would do in circumstances such as this. But that’s just it; they _didn’t_ and that made her feel the _terror_. She is way out of her league. She had been too _naïve_ , too _deluded_ to think that she was strong.

Her stomach clenched at every sound made, remembering the night before added tension and gut wrenching terror.

She ignored everything and curled up like she did when she was a child, scared and _young_. She shut her eyes, hands covering her ears to try and block every sound but failing. She flinched whenever she heard the wails and howls, she curled up even tighter when she heard the sickening cracks and squelches, rocking back and forth when she heard the gleeful giggles and mocking, her instincts screaming at her not to make a sound. Everything left her mind except for _fear_.

 _PleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseIdon’twanttodieIdon’twanttodieIdon’twanttodie_ —

“—ks! Tonks! Nymphadora!” yelled Kingsley in an effort to make his subordinate come back from her catatonic state. He never dared to touch her knowing the risk. He knew that she would lash out; he had dealt with something similar already— _blood, fight, fall, survive, war_ —and he sorrowfully watched as Tonks, his _young_ subordinate, suffered.

He twitched when an ear piercing scream echoed through the enclosed space. Even he, an Auror, a survivor of the first war, was not able to stomach anything that is happening in this dungeon. He _had survived_ , he had never been witness to such— he almost threw up just thinking, _remembering_ what their captor _would and can do_.

Their captor. Harry Potter, yet not. He knew it really was Harry Potter. _Was._ What had happened to have the son of James and Lily end up like this? He flinched and turned away as a sickening squelch was followed by a screeching wail. A shiver broke through his body as _it_ continued. He valiantly wished he could have his wand to put up a silencing ward to keep out the _sounds_. At least, maybe then, Tonks can calm down.

He was not aware how long it had been. Probably hours, or just half a minute? The screams never seemed to stop. If not, then the pleading and moaning.

“So she can’t alter too much.”

This startled Kingsley, who was still staring dazedly at Tonks’ catatonic state. He turned to where it came from and flinched back from the blood soaked figure of their captor, green and red eyes dilated in euphoria as the rusty smell of blood permeated through the air. Kingsley barely held in his dried heaving as the stench hit him— _blood, death, suffering_.

“I guess being a Metamorphmagus has its limits,” said Potter, tilting his head to the side, blood that made its way to his messy hair dripping down at the movement, “It’s not entirely ‘changing your appearance at will’…” Potter trailed off, going back to where he was— _blood, blood, screaming, pleading—_ and levitated the two unconscious bodies, hardly recognizable yet _alive_ , and deposited them back to the cell.

“Pity Dudders died in the middle of rewiring his limbs…” muttered Potter, staring mournfully at the mutilated, hardly human, bloody mess on the floor. Kingsley looked away once he took sight of _it_. Red would never have another meaning than _this_.

“Now!” Potter clapped, glee painting his face and Kingsley felt like throwing up, “ _Petrificus Totalus._ ”

Kingsley felt his arms and legs snap together, his whole body stiff as board. He was thankful that he was seated though that thought was quickly buried when Tonks was levitated out. He tried to lash out but the curse held strong and he was forced to watch as his _younger_ subordinate sank deeper into herself in fear. He _should_ be the only one there. He _should_ _have_ tried harder to protect them. He _should have_ fought harder. He should have _expected_.

Some Auror he turned out to be.

“Don’t be lonely, Kings,” said Harry, chaining Tonks to where she looked in fear; where Dudley Dursley was chained up earlier, “didn’t I say that you would be together? Now remove that sulky air of yours.”

Kingsley gave up in figuring out the character of the _being_ —he wasn’t sure if he could even call him person nor _boy_ , as with _Voldemort_ ; _Voldemort_ is _Voldemort_ , not a man, nor person, worse than a _monster_ , _never like them_ —giggling and childishly doing things in his own way. His eyes landed once more on Tonks who was trying futilely to pull herself away from the blood covered wall and chains in desperation, still lost to her own world, then to the unconscious-bordering-on-dead occupants of the other cell.

Then he was being roughly dragged by hand outside the partial safety of the holding cell.

Kingsley finally let the terror of the situation grip him, hard. It made his mind create various images of what might happen, what _will_ happen, and covered him with its cold inky blackness, making his head pound, and blood to rush madly through his veins.

“Aw,” cooed the _being_ , chaining him to the wall opposite Tonks, “don’t be scared Kings because if you are, what do you think dear Nymphadora here is feeling?” the _being_ let out a giggle, “I’m pretty sure she’s far, far, far worse than you are and besides, it won’t hurt,” the _being_ sent a toothy grin that made him flinch but was not able to because of the curse, “I’ll just make sure you feel _all_ of it.”

Kingsley felt his body go slack s the curse was lifted but his _fear_ drained his energy, making him unable to at least stand on his feet. He felt so ashamed that he let his fear grip him like this, he was an Auror, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he was not a coward but… but. He forced his sight unto his subordinate. At least, maybe, he could face this with as much dignity he could muster.

His resolve faltered once he saw Tonks. Her normally bright colored and spiky hair was now dull and greasy, not unlike Snape’s, her dark eyes blown wide in fear, skin like parchment, her lips forming a litany of words— _please, please, mama, help me, I don’t want to die_ —as she struggled with the chains and trying to curl up in herself.

A giggle next to him made him flinch, “Nice view isn’t it? At first I was torn on who I should start with but she answered it for me.”

A part of Kingsley wanted it to be Tonks first so she would not suffer longer but then, a traitorous part of him, the cowardly part of him, whispered and wished that he be the first one—he can’t handle watching someone he had grown close to, despite it being something an Auror _shouldn’t,_ to suffer.

“W-who…” he found himself asking shakily.

His response was a bright grin and the _being_ walked over to Tonks and yanked her hair. Tonks screamed and the _being_ winced before tying a gag over her mouth, muffling her continuous screams and making her choke on her spit but that did not deter her as she continued on screaming.

Then the _being_ cut a lock of hair from Tonks, he let it fall to the floor and watched in fascination as it grew back almost immediately. The _being_ cocked his head to the side and grabbed a lock of hair from his own and cut it. It grew back as well but slower than Tonks’.

“Hn,” The _being,_ stared curiously at the grown back hair, “I can’t change my appearance but I can do that? Must have come from the Blacks somewhere in the family tree… Well, would you look at that! I inherited some of the abilities of a Metamorphmagus; I had thought that it was just a Wizard thing but Tommy said no so… cool!”

The _being_ banished the hair and went back to look at Tonks, attention focused solely on the woman. Kingsley forced himself to look on, silently vowing that he would at least give his subordinate the attention. He didn’t even consider being able to escape.

“Harry,” said a cold voice he was almost too familiar with.

Kingsley was used to the voice laughing maniacally, giving high pitched cackles and orders, spells to kill especially the Unforgivables. Not this normal, almost caring, tone.

Harry turned and smiled brightly as Lord Voldemort entered, a hairless eyebrow raised, nearly lipless mouth curved into an _almost_ fond smile.

“Voldemort!” exclaimed Harry—the _being_ —delightedly, seemingly happy to see _Voldemort_ , the heartless bastard and mass murderer, “Did you know that I had inherited some of the abilities of a Metamorphmagi? Apparently my ability to grow back my hair in a few minutes is one.”

“Is that so?” the serpentine figure of the Dark Lord walked further in, glance stopping slightly to him but then dismissed him, “You did leave the Dursleys alive, did you?”

Harry shifted, “Um,” he bit his lip and peered up through his lashes, “I might have—you know, just a bit, _might_ have, just one thing there, that teeny tiny bit part that I might have—”

“What?” cut off the Dark Lord in impatience.

“I killed Dudley.”

The Dark Lord remained silent before letting out a snicker—a _humane_ reaction—as the _being_ continued to shift and play with the hem of his blood-soaked oversized shirt—a _human_ gesture. The _being_ looked up to glare at the serpentine figure.

“You look like your Animagus form,” _not_ snickered _Voldemort_ , “That beach ball could die for all I care.”

“They’re there.” grumbled the _being_ , pointing towards the cell holding the mangled— _but alive—_ bodies of the man and woman. _Muggles_ , his mind supplied through the haze.

 _Voldemort_ made his way there still snickering— _why won’t he stop? He can’t do such a humane sound_ —and the _being_ pouting— _no, they can’t_.

Kingsley didn’t know why, or _how_ , is it that the two can interact like _normal people_ when they aren’t. It was jeopardizing the belief that they are _not_ people. They weren’t _supposed_ to be like that. They weren’t _normal_. The _being_ might have- no. Even the _being_ cannot be _normal_ even if he _was_ _Harry Potter_.

“Y’know, Kings,” started the _being_ , grabbing a relatively small knife that was littered on a table beside him that Kingsley did not notice earlier, “Voldy is so mean to me. But then, he was the only one aside from Tommy and Nagi to care for _me,_ not the Boy-Who-Lived who was his enemy, nor his Horcrux. You see, he can differentiate _me_ from Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. So if you are asking _why,_ you now have your answer.”

Kingsley merely continued to stare to Tonks. Her struggles were getting weaker and tears were streaming down her cheeks, eyes red rimmed and wide.

Then the _being_ stabbed her arm.

Kingsley watched, horrified, as the struggling Tonks made the knife slice through more than the part where it was stabbed. Blood poured out the wounds and only when Kingsley reacted did the _being_ remove the stabbed knife.

“S-Stop it, please, please…”

The _being_ let out a crazed laugh, red and green eyes alight, “Why?”

“Just- kill her, please. Don’t let her suffer…”

The _being_ giggled and brought the knife to his mouth and licked the blood off it before stabbing it to the other arm. This time Tonks repeatedly tried to pull away only to lose balance, plunging the knife deeper and not in the same place.

“Oops,” cooed the _being_ , pulling the blade away and flicking the knife, splattering some blood on Kingsley, “Wouldn’t want to kill her yet.”

The _being_ whispered something and the gashes healed enough to stop the rapid flow of blood.

Shame and self-blame creeped up and Kingsley shut his mouth. Though still in fear’s tight grip, he forced himself to look as calm as possible. He was stronger than that but even he knew that there would be no escape in their fates. It was inevitable.

He steeled himself and watched.

The _being_ looked at the blade he was holding and threw it away, the knife vanishing half-way. Then, he retrieved a scalpel from his baggy trousers and with swift precision that a fifteen year old should not have, made an incision that traced just where Tonks’ hair started.

“There!” cheered the _being_ , cleaning the scalpel on his oversized shirt, not at all caring that his shirt was already full of blood stains, and then pocketing it, “Now, can you answer this? What happens if we remove the scalp itself and not just the hair? Would it still grow back or not? You don’t know? Oh, well, we _could_ just find out.”

Kingsley was shaking his head but stilled when a faint wet sound of skin being ripped off started. Tonks had her eyes closed, muffled screams and pleads making her choke on her saliva. The _being_ held her hair firmly and was slowly peeling off the skin from where the incision he made earlier.

Once the scalp was completely removed, Tonks’ skull was in clear view with blood marring its surface. The _being_ placed the removed appendage on a head mannequin looking like a parody of a wig, rivulets of blood dribbling down the clear white face of the mannequin.

“I’ve got a use for this one!” exclaimed the _being_ , turning to him and pointing childishly at the removed appendage, ignoring the sobbing and whimpering Tonks, “You, Kings, will need this! I did say that we do both of you at the same time, sooooo…”

The _being_ picked up the bloodied hair, banishing the mannequin as he did so, and bounced over to Kingsley. The _being_ proceeded to plop it on him.

Kingsley shivered when he felt the wet _thing_ land on his head. He could never muster anger in this situation no matter how he tried so he opted to not move at all. Then he felt the poke of a needle. Not a normal, small needle, no. It was a needle that most used for weaving.

He felt the needle pierce through the delicate skin on his head, followed by what felt like a _thread_. The _being_ was sewing Tonks’ hair and scalp on him.

He could handle the pain— _he had received far worse_ —but he can feel the revulsion of knowing just what was being sewn on him and to whom it belonged to. Kingsley leaned away as far as he could from the _being_ without jostling the needle piercing through his skin. He knew that the _being_ was done with his task when the needle passed through the same place a few more times before being cut.

“Hn,” hummed the _being_ as he examined Kingsley, hand on his chin in thought, “The color contrasts horribly and the skin tone is all wrong—who cares?”

The _being_ giggled and conjured a mirror, holding it so that Kingsley could see what he had done.

The dull and greasy hair that previously belonged to Tonks was sewn on top of his bald head, rivulets of blood running down his face. You could clearly see that the hair was not a wig because of the excess skin around it being lightly tanned and not black like his. The thread was also white, crisscrossed along the skin.

This was Tonks’, an innocent woman who just happened to be with him. She was never meant to be here no matter what the _being_ said. For the first time, anger bubbled up to him and anger always lead to stupidity.

“Fuck you, Potter.”

The _being_ froze, smile staying in place yet eyes closed.

Kingsley suddenly felt fingers clawing at his left eye and pain explode from where his eye was yanked out forcibly, pulling a scream from him. His hand automatically tried to stop the blood from flowing but was stopped by the chains holding him.

The _being_ crushed the eyeball in his hand and picked up a club.

“Don’t. Ever. Fucking. Call. Me. Potter.”

Each word was punctuated by blows on his body and Kingsley felt pain erupt from the strong blows, coughing harshly as his sternum was hit.

“You know what?” snarled the angry _being_ , eyes blazing with anger yet his smile was not gone, “I don’t like you anymore than dust beneath my feet.”

With that, the _being_ threw the scalpel over to Tonks in Kingsley’s complete view. The scalpel imbedded itself perfectly through her chest, deep enough that it reached her heart. The scalpel was quickly summoned back to its owner and blood sluggishly poured out of the wound.

Kingsley watched, unable to avert his gaze, as life— _and sanity_ —slowly drained away from his subordinate’s fearful and pain filled eyes. His sight slowly getting blurry as the pain around his body flared. He could feel blood pouring out from where his gauged eye was supposed to be and he coughed.

Was that blood? He didn’t care.

Tonks was dead.

Finally?

He didn’t know anymore. He just wanted to follow her. He could feel his strength leave him and wished fervently for death.

“Oh no you don’t.” snarled a muffled voice that Kingsley barely heard over the pain, “ _Crucio_.”

An ear piercing scream tore out from him as his nerves were set alight, hands moving desperately to try relieving his body from the pain. It hurt. His body contorted painfully in his kneeling position.

Vaguely, he felt a hand grabbing his remaining eye but the pain of the curse was far worse yet the pain still added to it. His screams turned inhuman as the curse was not lifted yet his arm was ripped away roughly from him.

His brain would explode. Die. He wanted to die. It hurts. Stop. Stop. He wanted it to stop.

Then it suddenly stopped.

“Really? You want me to stop?” mocked a voice.

Kingsley barely had any sense anymore, consciousness teetering dangerously over insanity. Then his world erupted in pain once more.

“Too bad.”

He didn’t know how much time passed. It may have only been a second but it felt far, far longer than it should have been before he finally broke.

Harry giggled as he broke the curse, openly laughing as the man fell on the floor, ripped arm unable to hold him in a semblance of uprightness. The man was letting out mangled moans and shouts at odd intervals, mind obviously broken beyond repair. Even by magic.

“You broke him.”

Harry jumped as he felt cold arms snake around his waist, not at all caring about the blood covering the teen. He turned around to scowl at the Dark Lord, too used to the serpentine man’s habit of sneaking on people (the Death Eaters were _terrified_ when he does that).

“As if you were better,” Harry gestured wildly to where the bumbling mess the remaining Dursleys were reduced to. “Even with the silencing charm, I could hear them.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes. “Says the one who didn’t bother to put up silencing charms.”

Harry opened his mouth to rebuke the man but closed it as piercing pain suddenly shot through his body, making him grip the closest thing he could, meaning, Voldemort’s wrist. He clenched his jaw, all too used to pain yet can’t stop a reaction from him.

As fast as it started, it was gone, leaving Harry limp in Voldemort’s hold.

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned. “What was that about?”

 He shook his head to dispel the haze from his mind. He startled, though, when he felt something tickling his neck. He reached where he felt it and blinked when his hand encountered hair. That was weird, he could have sworn his hair was shorter than this…

“You do realize that your hair is growing longer?”

“Right,” Harry blinked, remembering that growing back in place aside, his hair never grew longer no matter how long of a time he didn’t cut it. “How is this happening?”

“You said you inherited some of the abilities of a Metamorphmagi…”

“Well, no,” Harry tapped his cheek, disregarding the fact that his hair now reached past his shoulder. “I mean, yes I did. But my hair _never_ grew longer no matter what I do. It just grew back in place… maybe… Ah!” Harry snapped his fingers with a sheepish grin. “It might have been because I consumed some of Tonks’ blood…?”

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow. “That could be, but why, and how, in Merlin’s name did you consume her blood? Last time I checked you were not a Vampire.”

“That doesn’t matter! Kingsley looked hilarious when I licked the blood off the knife, you can’t blame me! And it doesn’t even make sense that my hair would grow longer!”

“Of course it doesn’t, magic isn’t the most explanatory thing out there; it’s still rather unpredictable. However,” Voldemort continued, cutting Harry off from what he was going to say, “It might have been because you already have the same ability in your blood, but at a lower scale. The blood you had consumed simply enhanced this.”

Harry tugged at his wild hair. “So that means I could control it?”

“That depends.”

Harry cut it back to its previous length rather viciously, only for it to grow back to its long length. He tried again to only have the same result. His scowl became more pronounced as he tried again, getting the same result. Again, he tried, only to fail.

Harry groused as he tried again. “It became more unmanageable! Why did it have to grow longer?!”

They were already surrounded by so much hair that Filch would probably quit his job if he were to clean the mess. Harry only stopped when his frustration changed to resignation. Really, the shorter length was more manageable than this—this _mane_! It was a tangled mess for Merlin’s sake!

_Tommy! Help me!_

**_Harry! Stop whining!_ **

Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on Voldemort as the man didn’t let go of him through his slight tantrum. He pouted when he realized the man was snickering then Harry grinned. He summoned Nymphadora’s hair from where it was sewn on Kings’ head.

The summoned appendage rushed to him, ripping itself from Kingsley Shacklebolt’s head, and smacked on his slightly outstretched hand. He faced Voldemort with a smirk and with swift movements, plopped it on the serpentine man’s bald head. Though he did have to jump just to reach him, Voldemort was _tall_.

This stopped Voldemort and the man quickly grabbed the _wet_ object on his head with a grimace.

“Hair…?” Voldemort stared at what seemed like a wig but there was crusting blood and human skin.

Harry was giggling uncontrollably both on the face Voldemort made as the man stared at the hair, and Kingsley who finally gave in to death. Maybe he shouldn’t have made the black man lose too much blood? Nah, he could hardly care anymore. One name checked off his list.

Voldemort threw the appendage in distaste. “What was that? Severus’ hair?”

Harry cackled. “No!-Hah!- it wasn’t-” He broke down in laughter, eyes watering with mirth. Instead of continuing talking, Harry pointed towards Tonks, laughter growing as Voldemort saw where it came from.

Voldemort waited for Harry to calm down before flicking the teen’s forehead. “That was a disgusting feeling, brat.”

Harry stuck his tongue out, still letting out giggle at random intervals.

“Voldemort,” said Harry, poking repeatedly at the man’s chest to annoy him, “since you are an all-powerful, knowledgeable, cruel, megalomaniac of a Dark Lord… you don’t happen to know anything I could do that would get rid of this annoying length of my hair… do you?”

“I could have done without the ‘megalomaniac’ part.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Harry puffed out his cheeks before nodding.

Voldemort stared at the teen before letting out a sigh. Harry looked like an overgrown chipmunk… or like that Tarzan something or the other the muggles were talking about, except with longer hair and smaller stature. He waved his hand and watched as his magic arranged the teen’s hair into a tight plait.

“That should hold it. Happy?”

Harry touched his hair and blinked. “How do you know something like that?”

“You _do_ tend to know something like this if you hung out with the girls in Slytherin; they are obsessed with anything that pertains to their looks.”

“Like the Malfoys?”

Voldemort nodded empathically. “Like the Malfoys.”

Harry scowled when he felt some of the strands poke him when his hair was jostled a bit, “I officially hate having long hair.”

“At least you have hair.”

Harry smiled brightly up at the man, banishing the hair surrounding them, “Of course my Lord.”

Voldemort sighed. The teen was more trouble than… well, Harry did have his worth. That was according to his largely biased point of view, he thought, looking down on blood covered teen in his arms. Yes, Harry was trouble, but in the end, was worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is bored and... well... we'll know what he will do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say... except that I nearly forgot to update *grins* I thank you all for your response though~

The Ministry was in an uproar.

At least, that was what Percy Weasley can see. Ever since they received an alert of huge amounts of magic being used, in a muggle suburb no less, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had sent their Aurors to where it was only to come back with stricken and horrified faces, as if they had seen the Dark Mark. And according to them, they did.

That news came in the early morning.

Now, here he was, assisting wherever he can. Not that he believed it, especially with Potter proclaiming the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he clearly can’t. The monster was _dead_ , even the Minister says so. Though there was a small, tiny niggling part of his head, the one that grew up with his parents, that says that it is true to some degree.

He followed the Minister around, taking note of whatever was being said. All in all, it was stressful, yes, but still the normal work he does. And he was proud to say that he was doing better than his father, or mother. They still followed that Dumbledore around. Can’t they see that the man was going against the Ministry? The Ministry that made the foundations of order in the Wizarding World? Everything the Minister did was for the betterment of the Wizarding World.

And what the Minister said was true. So here they are, covering up whatever happened in the muggle suburb called Privet Drive. The Dark Mark was merely a fluke; same as what happened in the Quidditch World Cup. It was going on fine, that is, until Percy saw the list of damages and casualties.

He immediately felt his legs buckle beneath him as his eyes landed on one single name.

Oh, he knew the place was utterly destroyed; the Ministry recorded large amounts of _Fiendfyre_ and the excessive use of the Unforgivables. He just didn’t _know_ that all of the casualties were _dead_. He expected gravely injured muggles exposed to magic, therefore the need for the Obliviation squad. But there was _no one_ to be Obliviated. At all.

He never expected to recognize a name.

_William Weasley—Gringotts Curse Breaker (Deceased)_

His brother. His _brother_. If he was informed of this by anyone else, he wouldn’t believe it. But his firm belief of the Ministry being honest came crashing down at him.

Everything after that was a haze. He remembered getting up and doing his work mechanically, eyes empty and void until he notices that he was in front of the door into the office of _Misuse of Muggle Artefacts_. He didn’t even realize that he left the side of the Minister. In an attempt to clear his mind, the red-head reached his hand up to the door.

His father. That’s right. If anyone had the answer, it would be his father.

Percy opted to open the door instead of knocking. It didn’t matter in the end as the office was empty. The disorganized items were stacked haphazardly around the small room. He wove his way around the room, hitting some trinkets here and there but never bothered to arrange it back in his haste to find answers that even he knew the Ministry won’t give him.

The red haired young man hastily grabbed a pinch of powder from a jar near the fireplace, stepped into the fire, and threw the powder on the fire.

For the first time in months, Percy Weasley went back to his home, world turned inside out. Surely, Bill would be there to greet him, albeit frostily, and so would the rest of his family. And then everything would be back to normal. Deep in his mind, he knew, somehow, that everything would turn worse.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Voldemort stalked through the corridor, ignoring the pleading moans coming from the cells they passed. Standing slightly behind him was Harry, happily conversing with Nagini. The serpentine man can see how the teen was ignoring the Dementors around them, but it was still affecting him.

Sighing, the Dark Lord pulled the teen closer to him.

“Why did you come with me when you know you are uncomfortable with the Dementors?”

“Ah,” Harry bit his lip, “Well, who would save your sorry arse when even one of the Dementors go rogue? I am aware that you can pull this off yourself, but I do know the effects of Dementors. And besides, I’m bored and your currently… indisposed minions are, somehow, unable to produce a Patronus. So I guess I’m just here as company.”

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow, “You _are_ aware that due to the Horcruxes, the Dementors cannot do anything to me?”

“Well, then, I came here with you because I was bored!”

“You just wanted to meet Bellatrix.”

Harry pouted, “Oh, sod off.”

They walked on in silence; Voldemort can see—feel—how Harry shudders whenever a Dementor comes a bit close so he holds the teen closer, feeling the tenseness of the boy’s shoulders. Frankly, the Dark Lord was a bit surprised when the teen can still produce a corporeal Patronus (“I just think of whatever I can that I feel gleeful, namely Tommy. Although I think it _is_ because of him that I have strong reactions to the Dementors.”). But then, it was irrelevant since his incompetent minions can’t even produce a mist, and Snape was already out of the picture.

Sad to say the new… _changes_ in the Potions Master’s mental state affected his ability to think clearly about anything outside potions and violence (that Harry had happily added to his mindset, to which Voldemort just approved for the teen to shut up).

Soon enough, they reached their destination.

“Hello Bellatrix,” Voldemort stood before a cell holding three people; Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange.

The crazed looking witch stared up in awe, her dark eyes wild and dilated.

“My Lord…”

Harry grinned and crouched down to Bellatrix’s level, staring straight to her eyes.

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow, wondering what was happening between the two. They stared at each other for a while before Bellatrix let out a cackle of delight, Harry just grinning at her, the other occupants of the cell jerking at the sudden sound.

“Wittle Harry Potty’s all grown up!” Bellatrix cackled, grasping the teen’s wrist, a maniacal glint in her eyes “What would cousin say? Don’t worry, Mama Bella’s here with you!”

Voldemort withheld a groan. Just what he needed; Harry meeting Bellatrix. And here he thought he would finally have peaceful days. Well, of course not, he’s a Dark Lord, who says he can have at least one normal day? Harry on a sugar high was bad enough—he could still remember the amount of damage he needed to repair—but having Bellatrix as well, especially in her state, would become a major cause of head- no, a full on migraine.

Harry sprang up from his position and grinned, easily pulling away from the mad witch’s grip, “So what do you say we free all of you?”

The two stared at each other before Harry turned his green and red eyes at him, and when he turned his crimson gaze to the side, Bellatrix had her eyes on him in a pleading gaze.

“Can we use flashy explosions?”

Yes, he really would need to find a way to curb the two’s… more explosive deeds.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Chattering and whisperings were what greeted Ron and Hermione when they entered the Great Hall for their breakfast. Usually, Ron wouldn’t even be coherent but he had been extremely jumpy ever since they found out that Harry was missing.

The two-thirds of the Golden Trio were looking a little worse for wear; Ron’s usually big appetite significantly lessened, and Hermione’s frizzy hair was even frizzier, the band holding it in place was the only thing that made it possible for her to see. They barely slept, even in Hogwarts, and only the Deputy Headmistress’ periodic checking on them forced them to sleep, and the Twins’ constant pranks made them keep their heads up.

Dobby, loyal, helpful Dobby, made sure they eat at least twice a day.

At first, they had hope that Harry was only in his rebellious phase and would appear back at Hogwarts, but that was proved wrong when no Harry Potter appeared. Add the fact that the Weasley family was one member less, Ron was miserable and Hermione coming close.

It didn’t help that Privet Drive was attacked, but thankfully enough, Harry was not found anywhere there. But then, the Ministry covered up the crap there.

To Ron, the only thing that was positive was that Percy came back to the family. Though the cause was the worse, it was fine, as long as their mum, Mrs. Weasley, at least had another of her sons back. That was what the gangly teen forced himself to believe. Hermione, however, was over her head with worry and something else that she never wants to put a name to; feeling it was bad enough, naming it would only make everything real.

And that was what they didn’t want; for everything that happened was _real_. They were fine pretending that everything— _Harry, where’s Harry? Bill, help us find him- no, no, Voldemort cannot be_ —did not happen at all. It was not healthy, yes, but in the end, did it really matter at all? They were close—so, so close to each other.

So until now, the couple—they had been together before _all of this_ —created a barrier thick enough to block anything _unwanted_ , but thin enough to let some people in. Bleak as it is, it all came crushing down this particular morning.

They made a beeline to their usual seat at the Gryffindor table, Dean, Seamus, and Neville greeting them. It went on as the routine they had started; Ron shoveling as much food he wanted, acting as if nothing was changed – _when everything was_ —and Hermione scolding him. Then the owls would swoop down, carrying either mails or the _Prophet_ or _Quibbler_.

So far, everything was fine, until they read the _Prophet_.

**Mass Breakout from Azkaban**

That was all it took to break their small attempt in pretending that everything was _fine_ when it wasn’t.

“Ron, I-”

Hermione stood up and ran, unable to take it. She had been ignoring all the stares and whispers, it made anxiousness bubble up in her stomach. She wanted to laugh hysterically as she ran through the corridors, Ron not too far away from her; was this how Harry always felt? The dread, the stress of knowing that they were talking about her? She had been fine ignoring them the first few weeks, everything falling into blurred routine.

“Hermione!”

She stopped in her tracks, allowing Ron to embrace her. She didn’t even notice that she was crying _again_.

“What’s wrong?” Ron sounded so, so worried and concerned. He had not seen the article yet, so he was still locked up in that _routine_.

“Ron, this- I can’t continue like this anymore,” Hermione buried her face into her other half’s neck, “I can’t anymore- I- I just want this to-”

Ron tightened his embrace, eyes shut in—what? Anger? Desperation? Sadness? He didn’t know.

“I don’t like this reality,” whispered Ron, “I would have rather been back to _before._ ”

“Before all of _this_? We can’t, Ron, we can’t continue like this anymore. What would Harry say if he found out that we have been like this? Everything’s all-”

“I know- I know, ‘Mione. I really want to go back but- yeah, we can’t.”

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other like a lifeline, afraid that if the other disappeared as well, their world would be destroyed.

“You know, it just made this all the more _real_.”

Ron pulled away slightly, staring at the bushy haired witch in his hold, “What did?”

“The article, Ronald, have you not read it yet?”

Hermione was trying bring back a lighter mood, that, he could see and he cracked a small, sheepish grin.

“No, I can’t have, you ran away faster than I could say the Headmaster’s full name.”

Hermione let out a small giggle, “That isn’t saying much.”

“Well yeah, I don’t even know what’s between ‘Albus’ and ‘Dumbledore’, so it would take a while. I heard it’s long though, enough to only fit only a few more words when they tried to put it in the Chocolate Frog cards in the same size as the others.”

The atmosphere did lighten and a comfortable silence descended on the two.

“So what was in it?” asked Ron, breaking the silence.

“In what?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “The article.”

“Oh,” Hermione blushed lightly, “right, um, wait a second. _Accio Daily Prophet_.”

A copy of the newspaper flew over Hermione’s outstretched hands. She handed it over to him, pointing over to the headlines.

Ron’s brown eyes flew over the article, eyes widening the further he read. Finally finishing reading, he stared at Hermione, emotions mixing together. There were questions, doubts, statements running through his mind so fast that he didn’t understand, and it wasn’t positive either.

“Azkaban- but- that’s-”

“The most dangerous prison in the Wizarding World, yes. It’s also where V-Voldemort’s most loyal was thrown into.” Ron flinched at the use of the name and Hermione rolled her eyes though she too was a bit pale and looking over her shoulder as if someone would suddenly appear to attack them, “O-Oh come on Ronald, Harry can say _his_ name with a straight face or laughing, if he can, we can and should.”

“What are we going to do?”

Hermione bit her lip, “We won’t do anything. With Umbridge around and most of the people still believing Harry to be an ‘attention seeking liar’ despite his worrying absence, we can’t do anything. Our options are all limited and all of that ends to either going to help the Order, or being caught by Umbridge.”

“Well,” Ron scratched his head, “we need to do at least _something_. We have already wasted a lot of time keeping a _routine._ ”

Hermione stepped away from where she was still in Ron’s hold and looked around the corridor. Spotting a partially hidden alcove, she pulled Ron with her and hid in the alcove, raising charms to prevent eavesdropping. She crossed her arms and thought.

Ron, noticing that his- _Hermione_ was lost in thought, sat down on the ground and checked the time. It wouldn’t do if they were late to their class, especially DADA, which, coincidentally, is their first block. Surprisingly enough, they still have over an hour or so before they were needed. They did leave quite early. Normally, Ron wasn’t one to keep up with anything but food and Quidditch, but the— _losses_ —was rather… affecting.

A while later, Hermione let out a frustrated huff, “I can’t think of anything!”

Ron tugged Hermione to the ground with him when the witch started pacing, “Have you asked yourself, ‘What would Harry do?’ that works loads of times.”

Hermione stared at him, blinking, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because Harry and I always think, ‘what would Hermione do?’” Ron grinned, “And that saved our arses more than we thought to count- well, at least that’s what I do.”

Hermione wasn’t listening, however, so Ron was hit by an elbow when the witch jumped up in excitement.

“That’s it, Ron!” Hermione smiled at him excitedly, “Harry would oppose the one who is _wrong_ and in this case, that would be Umbridge.”

“And what can we do? I’m pretty sure Harry would be stubborn enough to butt heads with a professor as crazy as that bitch.”

“Ron, language!” Hermione started to pace, “But, yes, that is correct, however, he would at least try to find a solution to the— _lacking_ —educational system of DADA. So what would he do if Umbridge called him liar and reject anything that he says about Voldemort being back?”

“Uh,” Ron scratched his head in confusion, “land himself in detention?”

Hermione stared at him incredulously, Ron shrugged, “What? That’s what he would end up doing.”

“No, no, no,” Hermione shook her head, “What else? Can’t you remember that he has his saving people thing?”

“Saving people thing? ‘Mione, just get to the point.”

Hermione sighed, “What I’m saying is, he would do something that would help the students, whether they believe him or not.”

“And what would he do to accomplish that?”

“Teach them of course!”

“T-teach them?” Ron sputtered, “I’m sure he won’t be as suicidal to try opposing Umbridge that much.”

“Oh but he is, suicidal, that is,” Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment from her satchel, “We could organize a study group of sorts to help students in learning Defense. We have enough reputation to not attract those who do not want to learn, and enough to get at least the alliance of those who would rather pass their O.W.L.s than waste time listening to Umbridge. After all, I’m the know-it-all muggleborn that would do anything to pass her O.W.L.s.”

Ron merely watched as Hermione scribbled madly on her parchment. “Who would teach them?”

Hermione looked up from her work and stared at Ron, “Us, of course. We should at least do something so maybe when Harry gets back—he’d have to, Ronald—we could make progress on what we could do even without him.”

Ron had his doubts about Harry going back, after all, Harry would never miss going to Hogwarts unless anything were to stop him, and even then, he would find a way to go back. He might be pulling from the dark side of his mind where he kept everything bad in— _Face it Ronald, Bill’s dead, nothing can change that- but I can’t_ —and the statement from Mad-eye shook him up. But he never voiced this to Hermione, knowing that the girl was being optimistic on something, and deep inside, there was also that small hope that was buried inside the paranoia.

Hermione suddenly stopped and rolled up the parchment she was writing on and stuffed everything back into her satchel.

“C’mon Ron, or we’ll be late.”

Ron stood up and followed her out, wondering how she knew they would be late, but then again, Hermione was always right about these things.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“Voldemort!”

Harry barged in the room with a jaunty wave, Nagini trailing behind him. Voldemort glanced up from whatever it was he was doing.

“What do you want now?”

“Aw,” Harry pouted, “I come visit and you ask what I want? You make me sound like a demanding brat.”

“Harry, you pretty much always ask for or about something whenever you suddenly barge in like that. And you’re too chipper for this time of the afternoon. Normally, you would have been napping by this time.”

“I do not nap,” Harry stuck his tongue out, sitting cross-legged on the floor, “I merely oblige my new instincts of getting rest at this time of the day.”

“So you nap.”

Harry glared playfully at him as Voldemort smirked over at him. “So what do you want?”

At this, Harry perked up with a grin, “Well, seeing that we would just ignore the prophecy—as it was meant to be, might I add—I was wondering what you would do next.”

“And why are you asking?”

“Because I’m bored and Mama Bella and Mama Nagi got along too well and forced me into room arrest when they found out my list got a name short two days ago.”

“So that was where you were yesterday…” Voldemort turned amused eyes to the snake curled up near the fire, _::Nagini, how did you manage to lock him in his room for a whole day?::_

Nagini’s head poked out from her coils, tongue flicking out, _::I didn’t let go of him, and that Black assisted in food and such.::_

“That was a peaceful day, _::Why didn’t you continue it until today?::_ Voldemort was smirking over to Harry who was pouting and crossing his arms, looking away from them.

Nagini gave an annoyed glance at Harry, _::He managed to get away from my coils and Black’s watch. I recently found him and followed him here.::_

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow at Harry, “What are you here for? Other than getting away from Bellatrix and Nagini; that was your fault, by the way. How you ever managed to get Bellatrix to look at you as her protégé is beyond me.”

“Skill, Voldemort, it takes skill to get her attention. Are you jealous?”

Voldemort scowled as Harry giggled, “Shut up brat.”

“Yeah, well, Mama Bella was bored as well as most of your mad minions who we retrieved from that overgrown dark place.”

“You left yourself out.”

“I’m not bored, I’m just annoyed at how there isn’t anything I can do other than annoy you.”

Voldemort was silent for a while before he let out a snort and covered it with a cough when Harry glared at him.

“You’re grounded, aren’t you?”

Harry just continued to glare at him as Voldemort laughed. To the normal Death Eaters, the laugh might have been frightening because the Dark Lord never laughs and when he does, it was mostly followed by large amounts of _Cruciatus_ curse to be given around, but Harry was already used to it and could see that Voldemort really found it amusing, which only caused him to glare harder.

“Mama Bella threatened to finish off my list! _My list_ , Voldy! I want to actually finish that list myself, and it would be highly… angering… And you have no say on that anyway! I know how possessive you are even with your own victims.”

“I concede your point.”

Harry stared for a while, blowing a stray lock of hair from his face. He frowned when it got on his face again. He repeated his earlier action only for it to land on his face again, poking one eye in the process. Getting fed up, Harry finally removed his messy hair from its braid and tied it in a bun, cursing when the same lock fell. Again.

Voldemort watched, amused, as Harry scowled, grabbed the offending lock and cut it as short as possible only for it to grow back. Cursing to hell and back, Harry finally thought of using his magic to keep it in place. The teen’s red and green eyes found Voldemort’s crimson eyes and realized something.

“Stop not answering my question!” Harry pouted, “Mama Bella and company would find out anyway. And as I said, we ignore the prophecy; what are we going to do?”

Voldemort chuckled before his face turned serious. Harry shifted into a comfortable position, lying on his stomach with his head propped up by a hand, knowing that he was for a long conversation with the snake-like man.

“You know that the Ministry is out for blood, correct?”

“Yes…”

“They covered up the attack on Privet Drive despite the clear evidences of at least my Death Eaters’ presence.”

“That isn’t something I was not aware of.”

“The Minister thought that Dumbledore was working against him, staging that raid, when in reality, Dumbledore’s Order was a few members less, along with the DMLE. To have control over Hogwarts, the Ministry- or rather, the Minister sent one of his underlings inside Hogwarts; that is Dolores Umbridge, the senior Undersecretary.”

“I would put up the guess that Malfoy senior has something to do with that.”

“Indeed. Lucius was the one to suggest that to the Minister.”

“So…?”

“That woman has a strange fascination to Cornelius and would gladly overtake Hogwarts, no matter the means. The Minister ‘thinks’ that Dumbledore is creating an army inside Hogwarts to oppose him, hence the presence of the woman. Cornelius may be a useful puppet but he is too gullible.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Harry flipped himself over so he was lying on his back, “The Minister is too useless so you’re going to get rid of him _after_ that Umbridge woman sinks her metaphorical claws in Hogwarts. What about Dumbledore?”

“Dumbledore needs to be taken care of.”

“And how would you go about all of that?”

Voldemort smirked, blood red eyes gaining a maniacal glint that showed that the man really is what the monster most of the world believed him to be.

“Why, we attack of course.”

Harry’s eyes mirrored the Dark Lord’s expression.

“Brilliant.”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“I know all of you are wondering why you are all here,” Hermione’s voice filtered through the students chatting with each other. They were in an abandoned classroom near the library—if they ever needed it, it was in immediate view. Hermione had, of course, asked for the permission of a professor; Professor Flitwick, to be exact. They were, after all, in the Charms corridor.*

Ron stood beside her, as did Ginny and the twins on either side. Ron and Hermione finally looked their normal selves, save for the darkened bags under their eyes. The twins looked the same as always but if you looked in their eye, you could still see the remnants of grief, but Ginny, Ginny looked like a wreck and only Hermione’s and her siblings’ help made her look remotely presentable.

“Yeah, what _are_ we doing here?”

Hermione looked at the one who spoke, “Did I ask a question? No? Then don’t talk.” It sounded snappish even for Hermione but her mood took a nose dive since the start of the year. She cleared her throat at the tense atmosphere in an attempt to break it. “You all are aware of how… incapable _Professor_ Umbridge is, correct?”

There were murmurs of agreement, some preferring to nod, afraid that if they answered too loud, said professor would hear them.

“Yes, well, at the rate things are going, we would not be able to pass our end of term exams, or in the case of fifth and seventh years, O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, not to mention for actual _defense_.” Hermione took out a roll of parchment from her satchel and scanned over it, “It would also be in our advantage if we were to create a study group of sorts. Aside from defense, we can always prepare for other subjects such as Potions or Transfiguration—theory as well, of course.”

“And we are sure that this isn’t one of the ruse Potter came up with because…?”

“Smith, shut up, no one needs your quips,” snapped Ginny, pointing her wand to the Hufflepuff, “And how can Harry even be involved when _he clearly isn’t even here_?!”

“Little Ginny here—” Fred started.

“Is correct, of course—” George continued.

“How can ickle Harrykins—”

“Be here when—”

“He has been absent—”

“For more than a month?” They finished in unison, staring the ones who seemed to agree with the Hufflepuff down.

“What do you mean ‘more than a month’?” It was Cho Chang who spoke, her voice soft, “We are all aware that Harry was not able to make it to Hogwarts… but what do you mean…?”

Ron sighed, eyes darkened, “You lot were not aware of the attack in a muggle place?”

“N-No, not recently…” Cho bit her lip, glancing at the others around the room, all of whom shook their heads.

“Stupid Ministry,” Ron sneered, “Just before Hogwarts started, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey was… attacked. Evidence leads to either Death Eaters or Voldemort himself.”

There were gasps, but those who stayed true to what the _Prophet_ led them to believe either sneered or glared.

“I knew this was a ploy for you to make us believe You-Know-Who is back!”

“Shut the fuck up you tosspot!” To their surprise, it was Fred and George who snarled, “We won’t even use that for this! Our own brother was found dead there! And of course let us not forget that Privet Drive is where Harry Potter lives!”

“Wh-what?”

“Marietta…?” Cho looked at her friend in question, eyes wide.

“I- mum works for the Ministry,” Mariette started shakily, skin parchment white, “And she did say something about an attack where they found every single one of the residents dead… along with two of our very own. It- I didn’t know that one of them was a Weasley…”

Silence reigned as the students digested the information.

“The other was Hestia Jones…” whispered Hermione, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Tell me, have you also heard of the disappearance of two Aurors?”

“I-” Marietta started, shock still apparent in her voice but willing to answer, “Yes, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt… I think…”

Hermione smiled grimly and let the silence settle again.

“The Ministry seem to be infested by Nargles and Moon Frogs… why would they have mistletoes anyway?” Luna Lovegood’s dreamy voice washed over them, snapping the silence, “I thought Cornelius Fudge only has an army of Heliopaths…”

“No he doesn’t, Luna,” sighed Hermione, “Nargles, Moon Frogs, and Heliopaths don’t exist.”

“They do, daddy says so,” replied Luna breezily, “besides, they thought Stubby Boardman killed 12 muggles.”

Fred cleared his throat, “So!” He clapped his hand to gather their attention, “Shouldn’t we be talking about that study group Hermione was talking about?”

Hermione grimaced, “Yes, right, from today on, anyone who wants to join this Study group can come here every Monday and Thursday after the feast and Saturday after lunch. Don’t worry about being caught, I have the permission of Professor Flitwick and Madame Pince for the use of this classroom and the Library.”

“You can seek help to anyone in the group during these sessions. Here’s a list for those who we are sure can help,” Ron levitated pieces of parchment to each student, “Fred and George can give assistance to Potions and Charms, ‘Mione to Runes, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration, mine’s Defense and Care, Ginny’s Defense and anywhere she can assist, and also Neville who can help in Herbology.”

Neville shyly voiced his concern, “Isn’t this room a bit too… small for its purposes?”

“This is the largest room we could find with the permission of Professor Flitwick.”

“Um,” Neville shifted uncomfortably as most turned to look at him, “I may know a place where we can… study.”

Ron smiled encouragingly at him, “Where is it mate?”

“Umm…” Neville was hesitant but sighed, “I found it when I was thinking of what I forgot… I think it was called the Room of Requirement. It becomes any room you want it to be as long as you thought of it.”

Hermione thought for a while before nodding, “We can use that room for the more explosive… messy things we do. We still have a Professor’s permission to form a study group so we should be fine if Umbridge pitches a fit.”

“That might actually rile her up more, mate.” Seamus crossed his arms, “Never mind that Harry isn’t here.” There was a questioning glint in his eyes, asking whether he was fine or not.

“We know, at least, that he’s not dead.”

“I would hope he is not, Ms. Granger,” A jovial voice interrupted. All of them turned to see the Headmaster, eyes twinkling brightly and looking better than the past few months, “after all, he is currently with Madam Pomfrey. Quite a dramatic return, I must say.”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts Hogwarts Hoggywarty Hogwarts~  
> Harry's there so please~  
> mind that he's there not for scabby knees~

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

Harry recalled saying he was not going to go back to Hogwarts no matter who says it, so he wondered why he agreed in returning. That’s right, because it would make… getting rid of some people far easier. Although he could have just did it randomly as well, without going back to being Harry bloody Potter. But Voldemort raised good arguments and he grudgingly complied so here he was, lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing playing unconscious.

Though, he remembered Voldemort’s arguments being beneficial to him, because come on, the psychological effect of his appearance on his ‘friends’ would be amusing, especially if he was playing his role again. He just didn’t want going back to his more boring play. And Harry Potter was very dull and a much hated character to him.

**_You’re the first person I ever heard calling themselves dull and hated… by yourself, no less._ **

_Oh please Tommy, you also found it incredulous when I acted my part without anyone being any wiser to the fact that Harry Potter ceased to exist for a long time._

**_Me being incredulous would be understandable considering the fact that I know your ‘personality’ is a far cry from Potter._ **

_Pot, meet kettle. Be sure to get along!_

Harry was pretty sure his use of the expression was wrong but he could care less. He wanted to curse every single person inside the room because, Merlin, he won’t be able to act freely anymore! It was true when they said that if you had a taste of freedom, you won’t be able to go back to what you used to do. And here he was, finally freed, but caged once more even if the cage was a mere illusion to the ones outside.

He heard the doors bang open and the pitter patter of hurried footsteps. They were here and he wanted nothing more than to create a bloodbath but Voldemort would be rather upset at him. The good thing was, Harry had forced the man to be prepared to have a backup plan when Harry lost control.

“Poppy, how is he?” He recognized the voice as Dumbledore’s, sounding genuinely worried and Harry barely stopped himself from giggling and just behead the old wizard. He couldn’t though, so he quietly sulked and whined.

“He’s fine, Albus,” Clearly, this one was Madame Pomfrey, “Just a few cuts that are now healed. He’s merely sleeping now, though I do not know what happened to him.”

Oh yes, the cuts. Voldemort said it would be better if he suddenly appeared in the Forbidden Forest, close to where Hagrid would find him. And that damned portkey just made him land on the rougher part of a tree. And as per planned, Hagrid, or rather, Fang found him just as the sleeping potion took effect. Well, that sleeping only lasted for fifteen minutes or so, so now he’s awake.

Harry heard rustling of fabric beside him and not long after, a cold, shaking hand caressed his face. Another grasped his hand tightly, then the sobbing started. What…? Oh, okay.

He twitched the hand that was in another’s grip and groaned lightly. Blinking his eyes open, he was met by bushy brown hair tied into a messy bun.

“…Hermione?” Oh how he loathed acting like Harry Potter again.

The bushy brown hair startled and faced him, tears flowing down her face.

“Harry James Potter, don’t you dare go disappearing like that again!” Then the witch flung herself to him and he felt his hand being squeezed tighter.

He let the witch cling and sob on him, hiding his grimace by burying his head on the witch’s neck. It seemed like a long time before Granger pulled away, eyes still brimming with tears.

“You alright there, mate?” This came from Ron who was grinning brightly at him though there was relief there as well. It was just now that Harry remembered Bill Weasley being killed during the raid. Seriously, it’s not like he’s all that important; there were loads of Weasleys running around that missing one is not a big deal, right?

Hermione blushed and sat back to her seat, using her hands to wipe away the tears that kept running down her cheeks.

“Um…” Harry started uncertainly already feeling tired thinking about how much he would need to cover everything he does up, “Ron… Hermione? What- why are you crying? And why are we in Hogwarts?” He made a show of looking around the Hospital Wing in confusion, “I don’t think it was necessary for me to go here, I could have just slept it off at Grimmauld.”

Hermione sat up straighter and Ron frowned.

“Harry,” Ron stared at him, “what was the last thing you remember?”

Harry wanted to roll his eyes but forced himself to frown in confusion, “Um, I went to bed feeling very tired. You went with me, remember? So why are you asking?”

“What’s the date?”

Harry shifted his frown to Hermione who asked, “Why? Don’t you know?”

“Just answer me, Harry.”

“Ok,” Harry sat up and blinked at her, “Um, I think it’s… somewhere around August? I can’t remember the exact day but I think it was past 10, at least.”

Hermione pursed her lips and shared a look with Ron. Hermione was about to say something when Dumbledore answered, standing at the foot of the bed while Madame Pomfrey bustled about, checking Harry once more.

“It’s already the 20th of October, my boy,” Dumbledore looked at him with dimly twinkling eyes, assessing him from damage, “You seem to have remembered quite far, Harry.”

Harry widened his eyes in shock. His red eye was hidden behind a muggle contact lens, so he didn’t need to worry about that one. His hair was another problem so he had settled with freeing it from its braid. Bloody messy mane that can’t conceal its own presence.

“B-but Professor, that- it’s not possible! I-” Harry started breathing heavily from holding back his laughter.

“Harry, my boy, calm down,” Dumbledore placated, “Deep breathes. Inhale, exhale. That’s good, alright, let Madame Pomfrey check you for anything.”

Harry settled down with a contemplative frown that was the exact opposite of what he was really thinking. He absently let Madame Pomfrey do whatever it is that she needed to so. He knew that nothing would come up with any diagnostic spells, except for maybe the Horcrux but even then, to detect that required Dark Magic, which he was certain Dumbledore will never let Madame Pomfrey use. He wasn’t even sure if the Mediwitch knew about it.

Harry noticed that Hermione and Ron were starting a conversation with the Headmaster and he tuned them out, letting his mind float around.

The whole plan was for him to stay at Hogwarts until the time for the… attack came. Other than that, he was free to do as he pleased as long as he found a way to let Voldemort and his Death Eaters into Hogwarts. That one was relatively easy; they could just use the Chamber or the Room of Requirement. Or just the entrance gates. Yes, that would be easie- Ooh… the one in Honeydukes as well.

Hey, wait. He _was_ allowed to do as he pleased so… why was he going to go back to his cursed role of being Harry _bloody_ Potter again?

**_Because you and Voldemort are sadistic little shits that want to let them have hope only to crush it brutally at the last moment?_ **

_I didn’t ask you Tommy, you’re making me feel horrible because I was actually the one who suggested something like this. I already miss Mama Nagi._

**_See, your fault, so stop whining._ **

_You’re mean. And besides, you’re a sadistic little shit as well. After all, it was your memories that made me so._

**_You really had to mention that, didn’t you?_ **

_Why yes, of course Tommy. I always know you love me. I would giggle if I can but there are too many people here to witness that._

**_Shut up brat._ **

Harry came back to his senses just in time for Madame Pomfrey to claim him fine. Now how would he act…

“I believe, Albus, that Mr. Potter stay for a few more days until he adjusts and maybe we can find out where he was and what happened to him,” Madame Pomfrey let out a sigh and looked at Harry worriedly, “the poor boy seems to be in shock so it would be best if he rests for a while and maybe talk to… his godfathers for a bit.”

Dumbledore merely sent the mediwitch a look to which she shook her head in response.

“They would need to know as well, Albus,” sighed Madame Pomfrey, retrieving two vials from a cupboard, “And I imagine Sirius would storm over here as soon as he hears it.” She handed Harry the vials, “Drink this, dear. The first one’s a Calming Draught and the other is Dreamless Sleep.”

Harry nodded blankly and drank the potions quickly, grimacing at the taste. As soon as he drank the Dreamless Sleep, he felt drowsy and soon enough, his eyes closed. Really, he just knew that he would somehow lose control at least once.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

And he was right. Never mind that the distraction of his hair caused a bit of questions and confusions (faked on his part).

The past weeks were fast if a bit dull and annoying. He did not lose control. At all. No, really, he didn’t. Oh, of course he did! Cho Chang had been badgering him ever since he was released into the wild.

**_I sometimes wonder about your analogies._ **

_Oh yes, of_ course _you would focus on the analogies that, might I add, came from you all those years ago?_

**_I was a teenager! And you must admit, the word ‘wild’ fits._ **

_Doesn’t really explain why choose that phrase, even in your head, once you had graduated Hogwarts, Tommy._

**_Oh of course it would just make more sense if you use it when you_ ** **enter _Hogwarts._**

_Well it fits!_

**_Your own argument back at you._ **

Harry was not pouting. He wasn’t. He was scowling at the collapsed body in front of him.

It was already past curfew and up until now, Harry had been working in a haze, therefore his lack of recall on what had happened outside from the fact that Cho Chang had annoyed him greatly. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t even know why they were meeting in the first place. He vaguely remembered Hermione and Ron dragging him around the castle and some kind of group for exams and some such.

Harry huffed, “Really, I should have paid more attention. It’s just so boring being cooped up again.” He looked around, noting that they were somewhere in the fourth floor. Levitating the unconscious form of the Ravenclaw, Harry sighed, “At least it’s not the Dursleys. Might as well do something to entertain myself.”

Making sure that no one was around and that Filch or Mrs. Norris was nowhere near them, Harry entered the closest room, which looked like the Ancient Runes classroom. He didn’t exactly know but if the notes on the board were to be judged, then it is the Runes classroom. Dropping his ‘baggage’, Harry cast several charms around the room and put up various temporary wards.

“Well,” Harry grinned sharply, “why not get started? _Renervate._ ”

The Asian girl gasped and looked around blearily. Using her elbow as support, Cho sat up rubbing the back of her head from where it made impact when Harry attacked and dropped her.

“Cho,” Harry called with a frown, “Hey Cho, what happened?”

That was when Cho finally saw him and her eyes widened before reaching for her wand and pointing it at him. Harry raised his arms in the universal gesture of surrender but it did not seem to placate the girl. This caused Harry to frown deeper, not knowing what happened. Harry grew remorseful at how he just, er, _floated_ around. Really, this confusion won’t even happen and he was sure Voldemort would have a kick when he hears about the recent days. Ugh.

Harry was about to open his mouth to ask again when Cho beat him to it.

“Who are you?!” The tip of her wand was lit in a threatening gesture that merely made Harry to roll his eyes.

“What are you talking about, Cho?” Harry bit his lip and looked at her questioningly, “I don’t really _know_ what happened. The first I was with Hermione and the others, the next we’re here…”

This caused Cho to falter, “What?” She lowered her wand and Harry hid a grin, “You don’t remember?”

Harry shook his head, “No, not so much. It’s all so blurry and hazy.”

Cho stared at him for a while before standing up shakily. She glanced at the door briefly before casting several diagnostic spells over Harry. When did she become cautious? Good girl. This would make things more fun.

Of course nothing came up from her spells and she tucked her wand away.

“I’m so sorry about that Harry,” Cho made her way to him but Harry flinched back. Seeing this, the girl backed down and opted to stand a few feet away from him, “It’s just that- you really don’t know what happened? I- we finished with our session and I wanted to talk to you, you agreed and walked around- I didn’t even know where you were headed!- and then you suddenly attack me! I-“

“So that’s why you were knocked out!” Harry grinned, though his face fell, “So then why would I attack you?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Cho sighed, “you don’t seem possessed and you’re the same, the _Imperius_ can’t affect you either…”

Harry was looking down, trying to recall what could have made him lose control—yes, he already forgot. These were actually one of those times that he cursed his being prone to distractions. Then he snapped his fingers theatrically.

“That’s right! You were getting so annoying, asking to talk to me repeatedly for the past days that I was here…” Harry bit his lip and peered up at the older girl, “That _is_ why, right?”

Through this, Harry magically removed the green contact lens on his eye. Cho’s attention snapped to him as he talked, eyes widening as the red eye was exposed.

“H-Harry?” Cho faltered and took a step back.

“C-Cho?” Harry took a step forward, grinning madly as the Ravenclaw took another step back before schooling his face into a confused frown, “It’s the eye isn’t it? Personally I like it, so does Mama Nagi, Voldy, Tommy, and Mama Bella. Well, I was guessing with Tommy, but Voldy does so, hey, they’re the same!”

Cho seemed to break from her shock and her first instinct was to escape so she ran to the door and tried to open it. When it didn’t, panic caused her to bang on the door, glancing frantically at Harry who merely watched with amusement.

“Who are you?” Cho looked around frantically, trying to find a way of escape.

Harry tilted his head to the side, mentally thanking his foresight of tying his hair up in a plait instead of the loose braid he usually had it in. Getting used in fighting his mane of a hair was a very hard task, really. He was very, very lucky Voldemort knew all those spells, but unfortunately for him now, Hermione didn’t know them so he suffered doing it _manually,_ which took up a huge part of his morning routine, now that he remembered it. Honestly, why he thought it was a great idea to zone out for _days_ , he did not know. At least it made a wonderful excuse for not being himself much—

An orange light whizzed past his face, pulling him out of his thoughts. Turning his head to the side, he frowned as he spotted the damage the blasting spell cast.

“Destruction of school property,” Harry mockingly admonished as he sauntered over to the other person in the room, “Y’know, that’s a pretty big offense in muggle schools.”

Grinning wildly, Harry lifted his wand and lazily pointed it to the Ravenclaw, “D’you want to know why?” Rhetoric questions were fun when they were answered. He was _so_ not being sadistic; that was all Voldemort.

So of course, when Cho answered with a shake of her pretty little head, Harry’s grin widened and gained a cruel edge. Voldemort did not rub off on him. Nope, it was all Tommy… which actually _was_ Voldemort so his point was moot. Damn. He could already hear both of them laughing at him. Well, he could always say that it was Mama Bella…

**_Arguing with one’s self aside… didn’t I tell you not to lose track?_ **

Harry was snapped out of his reverie once more as he dodged a spell directed at him.

“I was not finished!” Harry childishly pouted as he threw a scalpel he procured somewhere in his robes, “Didn’t dealing with megalomaniacal bastards—such as that Umbitch—teach you to let speeches be finished before attacking?” He cheered when the scalpel hit its target; the carotid artery in the neck.

Cho’s eyes widened as she felt the blade cut through her, hand flying over to stop it from bleeding. Not that it helped any; the carotid artery _is_ a, well, an artery. Cut up artery equals blood pouring out non-stop until you either heal it, or die of blood loss. Or, at least, those were the extremes. Not much pain, really, there’s the sting, yes, put the panic and fear actually just makes you feel every pulse. Wait, no, really, it would have hurt but the adrenalin would—

**_Harry!_ **

Ah, right, yes, of course. Keep track of things. Now that he thought of it, this was precisely why he barely remembered—

**_If you don’t focus, I’ll take control of your body until my reserves get drained just so you can’t talk or find me._ **

_You wouldn’t!_

**_I would._ **

Harry stopped and did as told.

“Where was I?” Harry looked really lost before he clapped his hands with a delighted smile, “Right! My speech…” He stared at the fearful eyes of the girl before grinning, “Well, we don’t really have much time, unless you can heal that?” The raven haired boy gestured to the bleeding wound, “No? Of course you don’t, you did not want to pursue the job of being a healer.”

“Anyway, _Expelliarmus, Incarcerous._ ” The spells did their work and Harry banished the desks and chairs to the side, “ _Mobilicorpus_.” The tied up body floated in midair, allowing some of the blood to drip down the floor.

With a grin far sharper than earlier, Harry removed the ropes and made quick work of slicing her wrists where the Ulnar and Radial arteries were, letting them bleed. Harry stared into the Ravenclaw’s eyes, absently noting that it was becoming unfocused and dilated. Why did he do that again? It just made him have a time limit. Well, at least she won’t be able to escape soon enough.

“Now Cho,” Harry held his wand with a grin, his differently colored eyes gleaming with madness, “Let’s see how long we can play.”

That night, bloodcurdling screams echoed throughout the fourth floor, but funnily enough, no one seemed to notice or take heed. Not the caretaker, his cat, or even the Prefects, Head Boy and Girl, nor did any of the professors who passed by.

But of course they would only react in the morning.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“Harry!”

Harry jumped, causing him to fall the few steps that was left, landing on his front and hitting his chin on the ground. He groaned.

Ron helped him up with a sheepish smile, “Sorry about that mate.”

“Harry, where were you last night?”

Hermione looked like a vulture that found out its food escaped. Which was a dangerous train of thought because comparing one’s self with food is never good. To Harry at least. He would bet his hand that Ron would find it right.

“…last night?” Harry schooled his face into confusion, “I was asleep… as far as I know.”

Well, other than being with Cho Chang, that is. But by Merlin, that girl could _scream_. And he relished in it, knowing that he was the cause. Luckily enough, he had found this rather interesting Rune chain—not quite a ward—that temporarily makes anything a person _perceive_ to a room or item it is etched onto, to be forgotten. He hadn’t had the opportunity to test it yet, until last night. And it worked! The forgetting part at least.

Hermione pursed her lips, “Ron said he didn’t see you come back to your dorm.”

Harry shrugged and sent a look to Ron that the other boy was not able to read, “I went back very late, I needed to ask Professor McGonagall about something I missed in our homework. And weren’t you and Ron supposed to have taken your rounds?”

Harry knew that his excuse was very weak but that was what he was going for; Harry _Potter_ can never lie if it was a necessity. And that is one of the reasons he _hated_ the _Boy-Who-Lived_. Revolting relatives aside, anyway.

“Harry…” Hermione grabbed his shoulder and he shrugged it off violently—that was one thing he never needed to pretend in doing ( _and wasn’t that funny_ ), “Harry, where were you last night?”

Harry stepped back and bit his lip. He gave Hermione a meaningful look— _lies_ —that the girl seemed to pretend to understand— _pathetic_. If they weren’t well meaning— _they were, he wasn’t, nothing good came to him when he was well meaning_ —they wouldn’t ever even have their heads now, he supposed. He wasn’t _that_ cruel. Actually, he was, he just chose not to, he’s been over it— _“Harry, don’t go there, please_ —

“Nothing, Hermione,” Harry sighed, “I just- let’s just go to the Great Hall…”

“Was it another detention with that Umbridge?” Ron groused, “I swear that toad will have what’s coming for her.”

“Ronald!”

Harry sighed and hunched his shoulders and made a show of rubbing his hand where the etchings of the damned blood quill was— _I must not tell lies; “FREAK! HOW DARE YOU LIE TO US_ —

He never noticed when he gripped his arm. He looked down to see crescent shaped cuts. Grimacing, he let his magic heal the cuts, noticing in the corner of his eye that Ron and Hermione shared a look. He really wished he was with Voldemort and Mama Bella and Mama Nagi again; he didn’t know that he would have _those_ again. They were gone already, why would they come back again?

 ** _They’re already gone, Harry. You even kept them alive for days before you killed_** **_them with Voldemort._**

Harry bit his lip but otherwise remained silent. Tommy was right, they were gone—dead, _lifeless_ , gone. But they were still in his mind, weighing heavily on him. They were a big part of his life, pathetic and useless that they were. They were what had pushed him to what he was, so close to insanity, with all of what they did— _Voldemort._ He _needed_ Voldemort. The man was the only one who had been able to help him along with Tommy. Tommy was there. Tommy helped him— _can and will_ help him.

**_Soon, Harry. Just a bit more and you’ll see Voldemort again._ **

_Right. Right. A few more weeks._

Harry entered the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. As soon as he stepped foot into the room, most of the Professors and Prefects gained a dazed look, there were some students too. Silently, Harry sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, absently guiding Ron and Hermione.

He propped his head with his hand and watched blankly as those who were not affected stared at those who were, some even poking them. It would be a few minutes before they recover, or so the book said. In those minutes, he poked the Gryffindors close to him that had the dazed look.

It was as if big bubbles were burst all over the Great Hall when they snapped out of their dazed look. And immediately, the prefects all looked bewildered, some a bit shaken. Umbridge just looked confused as did Slughorn who had replaced Snape.

“What…” Hermione trailed off, looking around, “There- that- What was that?”

Then Filch the Caretaker barged into the Hall, “Headmaster!”

“Mr. Filch?” Dumbledore looked bewildered, “What is it?”

“There-!” Filch doubled over and threw up, much to the students and staff’s disgust, except for Harry who veiled his amusement.

Madam Pomfrey ran over to the caretaker and helped him. The vomit disappeared, presumably cleaned by the house elves. The caretaker heaved once more before Madam Pomfrey gave him something to drink.

“Albus!” Professor Sinistra clutched her robes, looking pale and shaken, “There’s something wrong. I- there-”

“Someone tampered with our memories,” Madam Pomfrey looked angry at the same time pale, still helping the caretaker, “It was- Albus did you not hear anything last night?”

“I can’t say I did…”

Harry tuned them out, turning to his supposed ‘friends’, “Hermione? Ron? What happened?”

“Mate, how-” Ron himself looked pale but there was still confusion, “I- bloody hell, what-”

Hermione clutched her hair in fright, “It- last night- That was _awful._ And we merely _ignored_ it! How could we-”

“What happened?” Harry looked between the two, concealing his amusement, his previous episode at the back of his head.

“A student was attacked!”

There was a cacophony of shouts and whispering. Those who didn’t know what it was about was told by those who knew; namely, the prefects, and those who were out after curfew. Harry joined in the questioning, and throwing a few comments here and there.

“Wait- where’s Cho Chang?”

And this was the question that silenced the Great Hall. Even Dumbledore, who was clueless and was filled in by the Professors who ‘knew’, looked visibly alarmed. The silence was tense as everyone tried to look for the missing person in the Great Hall.

Through this time, Filch recovered but was still pale and shaking.

“That- this- Headmaster-” Filch stuttered, “The Runes classroom.”

Okay, so Harry may or may not have removed the effects from Filch earlier than the others. They needed someone who would _actually_ check what possibly happened. But of course, as soon as it was said, tension filled the air as teachers and students alike rushed out to check on what happened, only a quarter was left, most of who were a part of the study group Hermione created.

Almost as if it was a signal, as soon as the doors closed, those who were left gathered around where they were.

“Where’s Cho?”

It was the very first thing that came out from one of the students’ mouth followed by a barrage of questions that could be interpreted as theories or just legitimate questions. Harry did his best to melt into the background as he answered a negative to their questions. Really, curiosity or not, maybe it was better if they just went with the others. No, wait, that would have been more troublesome.

“I-” Harry finally decided to cut off the arguments they were having, “I was the last one to see Cho… I think...”

All eyes were turned to him, Marietta Edgecombe glaring accusingly at him.

“What did you do to her?” Oh of course it was the girl who would accuse him. Just like her friend.

Harry averted his eyes, “I- she- You all know how she wanted to talk to me, right?” At their nods, Harry shifted making himself look uncomfortable, “No, I did nothing to her,” He placated, “It’s- I- well, we did have our _talk_ , but I left her alone in the corridor after that… I-”

“Just say it, Potter!” Edgecombe glared fiercely at him, Harry just looked at the ground partly because he just didn’t feel like masking his amusement, “Say that you did something to her! I know how you have that little crush to her! Potter-!”

As soon as the Ravenclaw tried to attack him, one of the twins held her back with a scowl though still a bit pale from when he heard _that_ particular scream. That frightening, _bloodcurdling_ scream full of terror and pain. It never crossed his mind that he would ever hear something like that in _Hogwarts_ , let alone someone tampering with his- _their_ memories. How could they have ignored it? How could they have just passed by without at least trying to _help_. It was the same with Bill—no, he- they weren’t ready to face that thought again.

“I didn’t do anything to her!” Harry shook with anger (laughter), “I just- Merlin, I shouldn’t have just left her there- I-”

“Harry, it wasn’t your fault,” Hermione wrapped him in a hug and he flinched, she gave this no mind, “You couldn’t have known what would- what happened. Even I-” She choked, “I wasn’t able to do _anything_ at all. We don’t even know what happened… but that- that _godawful_ scream…”

All those that had their memories returned shivered.

However, Marietta still kept her glare. She knew that Potter had something to do with this, she just knew it. Deep, deep down, she knew that something was _wrong_ and whatever happened to her friend- her _best friend_ , Harry Potter was a part of it. She wasn’t one of those who knew but, from what she heard, it was- it wasn’t even describable by words alone. She feared whatever happened, she didn’t even want to know, but for her best friend, she knew that she would have to find out and _help._

And if it involved Potter, she would expose that it was indeed him.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Hermione felt sick in the stomach.

No, no, much more than that. She felt like exposing her guts. She was already sick in the stomach when- whatever had tampered with their memories- was removed, and now, now that she knew what had happened? She threw up to the closest bathroom, emptying her stomach, wishing that she could also throw up her guts.

When Harry came back, she was happy, more than happy, as was Ron. Who wouldn’t? They got their friend, their _best mate_ back after weeks of him being missing, along with the heavy news of- of- Bill… Really, they were ecstatic, but then it turned out Harry— _sweet, poor, strong Harry_ —didn’t know where he was, or what had happened, they were sad for their friend. But it had been fine, they got him back. With changes on both their sides, yes, but he was back. And she and Ron had decided that they would make sure it remained that way.

It had been fine in the few weeks; they made sure that Harry had adjusted fine, that their new group was fine, that Harry was aware of how awful that Umbridge is, that they didn’t even tell what had happened with Bill or his relatives—vile that they were, Harry still have the right to know that, but they didn’t care—that they would make sure everything was _fine_. It was a routine once again. But it was _for Harry_.

But Cho. Cho happened.

It made Hermione see that a routine can’t be established again.

“Hermione…”

She turned her head to the side to see who it was, “Harry,” A sob escaped her and ignoring the fact that she just threw up, Harry hugged her. _Harry_ , who flinches on all contact and never initiates on himself, _hugged_ her. It was stiff, yes, but _Harry_ hugged her.

Hermione saw that Harry was too calm, but she didn’t care. Nothing was the same anymore. Everything had changed so maybe Harry changed too. She was just selfish enough to make everything be the way it was. _They_ were selfish enough to make everything be what it was. Delusional; that was what they were.

The Golden Trio; that was what they were called. Since First year, that was what they were. She didn’t know when it started, but maybe it was when Harry’s name came out of the Goblet that she started to want them to always be together. And with all that happened the past year, it just wasn’t. They were Harry, Ron, and Hermione now.

But she clung to that first belief, as did Ron, so they made it so. They weren’t sure of Harry. He disappeared, to come back without memories of why and how. She _loves_ Ron, and Ron _loves_ her, she and Ron clung to Harry, and Harry was dependent on them. That was that. Nothing less.

“Shh…” Harry ran his hand through her hair stiffly, “Ron would have been here… but he’s in the boys’. Dumbledore had announced that classes will be cancelled until further notice… I guess that means no Umbridge, huh?”

Hermione let out a weak giggle, “I should be the one comforting you, you know?”

“Oh? Why is it?”

“Because this is _Cho_.”

The hand stopped briefly before going back to its ministrations a bit more stiffly, but Hermione didn’t notice.

“The Aurors are here so we should go there and give us our statements… someone had mentioned our little study group so as the founder, you need to give yours.”

Hermione hummed. She felt Harry shift and assisted her in standing up before using magic to clean her up.

“How did you come inside? This is the girls’ bathroom,” Hermione brushed her robes before straightening up.

“Well,” In true Harry fashion, he ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as it tangled with his hair, “The Professors seem to have understood, so they let me. Even got a nod from Professor McGonagall.”

Hermione was led outside where Ron was already waiting for them, looking as bad as she did. She let Ron take her hand and together, they walked together to where they were told to assemble.

“It sucks that it happened close to Christmas, don’t you think?”

Hermione nodded, “Who would do this? There’s no way that they would-” She grimaced as the scene in the room flashed through her mind, “-only do this for no reason. Hogwarts is the safest place in the Magical World, even more so, perhaps, than the Ministry. They would have worked hard to break through the wards without even the Headmaster noticing.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in question, “You’re saying that this is outside work?”

Hermione sighed, “There’s no way a student could have done this it was too-” she grimaced as did the other two, “-bloody and clean. If it was one of the staff, it would even be more impossible because aside from the new ones, all of them have been in Hogwarts for far too long to this now.”

Ron slouched, “Well then, why not Umbridge?”

Hermione shook her head, “Have you heard her… screeches earlier? She would have acted smug if she had done it, and besides, she would have preferred the use of her beloved Ministry… and her Blood quills.”

“Why not Slughorn? He’s new as well.”

Harry answered this one, “He already worked here before, and he seems to be the type who would have a higher… sense of self-preservation than courage.”

Ron let out a laugh, “Your way of saying that he’s too much of a coward to have a backbone.”

Harry smiled sheepishly while Hermione smacked Ron up his head, but she smiled nonetheless. It was as if everything was fine.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry sighed as he flopped on his bed, curling up underneath the covers.

He was so tired that it didn’t feel like it was only noon. Between giving their statements and rebutting Edgecombe who made it her task to make him look like the one who was guilty—oh, he very much is but he didn’t really want them to find out yet—he just felt tired. It didn’t help that Smith sided with her and even mentioned his… _interest_ towards the victim. And they even said he had a muggle background! He shouldn’t have made all of that muggle… well, it’s not like he could use Dark Magic, could he?

He really missed Voldemort… and Mama Nagi and Mama Bella…

“Harry!”

He paid it no mind as he buried himself deeper into his fortress, having summoned all of the pillows in the dorm.

“Harry!” This was followed by the yanking of his covers. He pulled it back with force and rolled over. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” He was pushed off his bed and landed with a thump on the floor.

The figure of Ron appeared on the foot of his bed but he remained unmoving in his position on the ground. Ron scowled at him and used his foot to poke him.

“Harry, you need to go down to the common room, c’mon!”

Harry remained unresponsive, pulling a fallen pillow to him and curling up, he closed his eyes, “Let me sleep…”

He heard a sigh, “Your fault, mate, _Mobilicorpus_.”

Harry felt his body float but still remained in his position. He let the redhead levitate him to the common room, choosing to try and sleep. The feeling of floating was a bit disorienting but he was curious as to how comfortable it will be if he slept like that. His brain quickly searched for the needed runes, coming up short with how to be able to control it. Then there was the chain that would make it work…

“Ron! Where’s Ha- oh, what are you doing?!”

“C’mon ‘Mione! He refused to stand up or anything!”

“So you just levitate him up like that? He’s awake, for Merlin’s sake! Put him down now, Ronald!”

Harry felt himself dumped onto something soft, probably the sofa, so he curled up and burrowed into the furniture. It was time for his cat nap anyway! He really, really wished he was just with Voldemort. He could sleep whenever he wanted.

He heard a chuckle just before him so he blinked his eyes open to be welcomed by the sight of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin staring at him amusedly. He closed his eyes again but figured that he needed to continue his Harry Potter tirade and shuffled over to where the two men were, thankfully, sitting. He plopped himself on Black, ignoring his body’s response of recoiling, and threw his feet on Lupin’s lap.

“Goodnight.”

Sirius chuckled, “Harry, kitten, we haven’t seen you for so long and you sleep on us? Quite literally as well.”

Harry opened one eye to stare at the man, “We can talk while I try to sleep on you lumpy mattresses.”

“Did he just call me fat?” Sirius gasped mockingly, “Remmy, my godson just called me fat!”

“Technically, I called Professor Lupin fat as well.”

Lupin laughed, but since Harry’s eyes are closed, he assumed Black was pouting.

“That is true Padfoot. And how many times have I said that I am not your professor anymore? You can just call me Remus.”

Harry decided to ask, “Isn’t it dangerous for you to be here Sirius?”

“Wormtail-” Harry heard the growl Lupin let out, “-was caught earlier by Albus, and given to Amelia Bones. It seems the rat was spying around here and it was by pure chance Albus caught him. The rat practically begged for him to be locked up in Azkaban for, and I quote, ‘him to be able to atone to the betrayal he did for James and Lily’. Whole lot of bull if you ask me.”

“Sirius, language.”

Harry opened his eyes to stare at the man, “That does not mean anything…”

“Wormtail admitted it with Veritaserum. How he got his hands on that, I have no idea. But he did this in front of Amelia and the Aurors, he practically proclaimed my innocence.”

Harry forced himself to grin, “That’s great! You’re finally free! Does that mean you can be my guardian now?”

He forgot about Wormtail but it seemed as if luck was on his side because the rat was not able to see him with Voldemort. If he went and confessed like that. That was one stupid vermin out of the way, since even Voldemort didn’t like the rat so his death was signed already.

Sirius grinned, “Of course!”

Lupin smiled at them but then frowned, “Sirius, you seem to have forgotten that you will still have your trial and the Wizengamot will probably chuck you to St. Mungo’s for a while.”

“Yes, well,” Sirius coughed, “It’s a long while before summer starts, and the trials would probably be around Christmas or New Year.”

Harry pursed his lips, “What about the Dursleys?”

The men stared at him and Harry did his best to shift uncomfortably before opting to sit up, still hugging the pillow. He didn’t even know whose pillow he was hugging! He just hoped it was his, or Neville’s, at least he can stand the other boy to some extent, but not enough to be of any note to him.

Lupin hedged, “You mean you don’t know?”

Harry frowned in thought, “What do I not know?”

The two shared a look before Sirius faced him again, “They’re dead. Or, at least, I hope so.”

“Sirius!”

“I-” Harry gulped, “How?”

Sirius’ eyes darkened, “A raid. V-Voldemort raided Privet Drive.”

“Wh-what?” Harry’s eyes widened, “Why- why don’t I know this? What happened?”

“You really don’t know?” At Harry’s shake of head, Lupin continued, “It was when you were missing that Dobby came to us, saying that Voldemort was going to attack, so we prepared ourselves, but we still lost. They- it was impossible to save anyone. Albus was the one who faced _him_ … along with Bill Weasley-”

Harry tuned them out, reacting appropriately in parts but otherwise bored and tired. He really wanted that sleep, especially now that the cold is creeping up.

In the end, he just went back to the dorm and shut the curtain around him then fell asleep. He was _tired_ of all of this.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

In the next weeks, Harry pushed himself, continuing classes when Dumbledore declared it. There was a tension in the air but they carried on, though nearing the one week mark, Harry got too annoyed with Edgecombe and painted another room with her blood.

This put him in scrutiny with the mildly unblinded Aurors but he brushed it off, as well as when Smith reached the end of his rope as well. Even Dumbledore was breathing down his neck, especially since Mad-eye was back at Hogwarts.

Really, everyone had just been testing his already frayed nerves.

So it was a very big blessing when a letter came to him the morning before the holidays.

_Today._

It was a single word but he knew what it means. He let himself grin.

The end would start today.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *plays dramatic guitar music*

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

They were in Potions when it happened.

Harry was in the process of crushing Valerian Sprigs to his potion (he's not really sure if it was really needed but since it was the only ingredient in arm's reach, he used it anyway) when someone knocked hastily on the door of the classroom, the one outside opening it upon the third knock and making a beeline to Professor Slughorn.

At the alarmed look the person—an Auror, maybe? His robes looked similar to what Kingsley and Tonks wore—had, Slughorn directed them to a spot just out of earshot and began what seemed like an argument. Harry seriously hoped they would have a fight.

Harry absently poured Flobberworm Mucus to his cauldron, ignoring the instructions both written on the board and his textbook. He didn't even know what they were making. Ooh, Granger's definitely sending him reprimanding looks but wasn't doing anything because Harry was pretty sure his potion was an utter failure. Well, who could blame him?

_**I can.** _

_Your opinion doesn't count._

_**If only you would pay attention—** _

"Uh, excuse me for a moment, students!"

It seems the Auror(?) and Slughorn had finished their little discussion and now the professor mirrored the Auror. Pity they weren't arguing at all. Harry was disappointed and it showed on his face.

The two adults raced out of the room.

And, yeah, there might have been a bit more to what Slughorn announced but Harry was distracted.

Harry stared into the murky and violently swirling colors of his potion. What would happen if he were to add a few Porcupine Quills as well? Would the cauldron melt like the one Neville managed to do in their first year? Or maybe explode. He hoped it would because he was _itching_.

Voldemort was taking a long, long, long, _long_ time. And did he already mention how _long_ a time he was waiting?

Then Harry lighted the fire under his cauldron, dismissing the thought of adding _whole_ Porcupine Quills to his already unstable looking potion.

Needless to say, it still exploded.

Huh, who knew that would happen? Definitely not Harry. Although, he did have the foresight to erect a shield around his cauldron. Somewhat. It was just a pain to clean up.

"Harry!" Someone hissed just behind him.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you should pay attention!"

Harry turned around from his blinking daze to see Hermione and Ron behind him, both sporting frowns of concern.

_Funny how she just repeated what you said, Tommy._

_**Because you really do need to pay attention.** _

_I resent that. I pay attention._

_**You don't, just ask Nagini.** _

_Exegetics, Tommy, exegetics._

_**Where in Merlin's name did you get that word?** _

_From a Thesaurus, Tommy, haven't you heard of it?_

_**Do you even know what that means?** _

_Uhh… no, damn. Fine! You win this time!_

"Hey, 'mione."

"Don't hey me, Harry James Potter!" And there it is, the rage monster. "What's wrong with you today? You've been out of it since this morning."

"Yeah, mate," Ron observed him with uncharacteristic sharpness, "You don't normally make a mess as big as this."

Harry shrugged, mind still trailing after the letter from Voldemort. His excitement is currently unparalleled and distracting. Really, the minutes were dragging on too slow even for his tastes. Or Tommy's, apparently, if the grumbled 'too slow' was to be an indication of anything.

"Why are you out of your seats anyway?"

Hermione gave him another concerned look, "Professor Slughorn dismissed us early."

Harry frowned, "But we still have at least an hour left." And even that was a very, very long time.

"Don't know mate," Ron shrugged and helped him up, Hermione doing the same for his things, cleaning the mess he did.

Hermione sighed, "Let's just go, we can hang out in the library before we head to the Great Hall."

That decided, the three exited the classroom and made a slow walk to their destination, Ron and Hermione giving Harry concerned looks all the while when the black haired boy still seemed to be out of it.

"Where are they?"

Harry suddenly stopped, causing the other two to stop as well. He looked around the almost empty corridor, his green eyes scanning their surroundings.

"Who's where, mate?" Ron looked around as well to see what was missing.

"The Aurors."

"And the students as well."

And indeed, the corridors they have passed were all devoid of people other than a few stragglers here and there.

Harry looked out the window and saw something that caused him to let out a surprised but pleased sound that attracted the attention of his companions.

Hermione let out a horrified gasp, "…it can't be…"

"No…" Ron looked on with wide eyes.

"The Dark Lord…" Harry let out a grin, "took over Hogsmeade."

There has never been a most beautiful sight—well, no, not really—with the thick black smoke rising from where Hogsmeade was supposed to be, the Dark Mark looming over the slowly diminishing flames that ate at the little structures they could see from the window.

_::It's time.::_

The only warning Ron or Hermione had before falling unconscious were maniacally gleaming green eyes.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Horace Slughorn would always be someone you call a coward. Even he, himself, knew that. Although, one does have to admit, that he is very much cunning and clever, using his apparent weakness to his advantage.

And, well, he had made his mistakes through his short-long life, but never had he expected that that one mistake, failure, _weakness_ would lead to _this._

Everywhere around him was destruction, carnage, a bloodbath, _Death_.

He can't believe it.

He can't believe _this_.

Even with most of the Aurors in Hogwarts, even with the help of the professors, even with the help of the Headmaster, even with the combined efforts of _all of them._ It changed _nothing_. Because they were all simply _too late_.

No one was spared—no, it was better that way because no one can live through such horrors that this tiny village had experienced in the last few hours.

The once quaint little village that exuded life and merriment was now full of death and destruction. Fires were being put out by the Aurors, debris being banished to try and find at least one survivor but to no avail. And the bodies… _oh_ , the bodies.

Beside him, Flitwick squeaked in horror, "Dear Merlin…"

"Merlin indeed…" Horace was sure he was as pale as the snow that should have surrounded them, "and we never realized…."

"We don't seem to realize anything now, do we?"

Horace looked at the old Headmaster that stepped up behind them; blue eyes dull with grief and sorrow. The potion's professor glanced back at the scene before him, resolutely ignoring the mangled and humiliated and _destroyed_ bodies that littered the blood and dirt spattered snow. A small part of him was grateful that he wasn't anywhere near the village when it was invaded. But he didn't know if it was better than knowing of it too late and that precious time could have been enough for Hogwarts to be infiltrated.

Oh, he had no doubt it would happen. That was the main reason the Aurors were there in the first place. Because there was someone _inside_ Hogwarts that would help those outside. That would help _Voldemort_. And the problem lies therein. They _can't figure out_ who it was; if it was a student or one of the staff. Just the thought of a student hurting another was appalling, more so if it were a professor that hurt his student.

Voldemort—only Voldemort could do something like that. Horace wouldn't be surprised to hear if the monster killed his own kin and followers.

And to think- to think that he was one of the causes of that monster's prolonged life.

He was foolish—still is—but he needed to change. If not for himself, then maybe, for those he had failed and those he had yet to fail. He was sick of being a coward, of being _foolish_.

Horace gulped, "We need to put a stop to this, Albus."

"We do," Flitwick squeaked out determinedly though fear was still coloring his voice, "it's much too close to Hogwarts—to the students. We can't let this continue anymore. Many of our numbers has already fallen, two of them our very own students. Albus, we can't—"

Flitwick was cut off by Dumbledore's hardened yet hopeless gaze, "Tell me, my friend, how?"

Horace and Flitwick stood there, their fear temporarily abating for the confusion and incredulousness they felt.

"What do you—"

"I've done all that I could, Filius, and still…" Dumbledore gave a defeated sigh, "there's only so much an old man can do…"

Silence settled over them, only the sounds of the Aurors working around them breaking it but even then, it faded to almost inaudible noises. Horace felt his mouth dry at the implications the single statement made Dumbledore can't be—

"You can't—" Horace was mildly surprised to find that it was him that spoke but he gathered all the courage and determination he had left and took a deep breath. "You can't just give up like that, Albus. This is the fate of the Wizarding World we are talking about. You have managed to hold your own against You-Kno—Vol- _Voldemort_ in the second war… and you still can. Albus, you're the _only one_ _Voldemort fears_."

Horace stared down the wizened old wizard, forcing the other to _understand_ ; they can't give up now. Because if Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard since Merlin, gave up, then that is equivalent to the Wizarding World losing hope. And that is something Horace is not _willing_ to do. _Not anymore._

"I fear," Dumbledore gave the two professors a dull, but twinkling gaze that made Horace _hope_ , "that I may not be able to do as much as I did before."

And that was what they were hoping for.

"So I will need all the assistance you could give—even the students."

Flitwick made a disgruntled noise, "But Albus, they're still children."

"I am aware," Dumbledore looked uncomfortable at his own decision, "but I'm afraid it must be done. Voldemort—" Dumbledore tutted at their flinches but continued on, "—has become even more vicious than before, and we must always have our guards up from now on. The children—the next generation has the connections and the abilities we once had but unable to do now."

Before they could say anything else, an Auror approached them just as the others were departing hastily.

"Sir! It's—Diagon Alley has been reported to have been attacked!"

Dumbledore's gaze became heavier on them, "Mars, I believe, is burning with brightness. What say you?"

Horace shared a glance with the half-goblin beside him and without a word, the two apparated away and into another battlefield that they hoped they could give a hand to stop. The students will be fine as long as they're in Hogwarts. For now.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Sirius was dozing on the cleanest couch he could find in the dusty and grimy Black estate that was a bane of his childhood when Remus came rushing in and hauled him off his ass.

Sirius blinked blearily as Remus dragged him out of number 12, "Wuzzat?"

Seeing the grim look on the werewolf's face, Sirius sobered up.

"Dumbledore called for us."

And wasn't that a good wakeup call? "Where?"

"Diagon Alley."

Sirius cursed under his breath and changed their positions. He dragged his long-time friend and immediately apparated as soon as they were out of the wards. They landed just outside the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, heedless of the Muggles milling about.

They made haste in entering the dingy pub, wands at the ready and eyes darting around, their muscles tense in case of an attack.

Once they stepped foot inside the pub, unknowingly activating a set of wards put up specifically for them, intense silence washed over them. The pub was empty, save for the upturned tables and chairs scattered around the room, and there was even some broken glass ware but there were no stains. Nothing. Everything was still, so, so very still that even the barest of movement could be heard clearly.

"Something's not right."

Sirius looked around wildly, past experiences from the war directing his mind and body, "And that isn't good, either."

There was a clutter near the counter and the two men whipped around, hexes and curses at the tip of their tongues but stopped when they saw a figure sitting on the counter. A _very_ familiar figure.

Sirius almost choked, "Harry? What are you doing here?"

Harry—or who seemed to be Harry because his godson _does not_ have a red eye—just blinked owlishly at them.

"Me?" Harry shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the counter, "I don't know, do you?"

Sirius glanced at is companion only to see the werewolf gone and immediately beside Harry.

"Harry, what are you do—never mind," Remus fretted and his green eyes scanned the small teenager, "we have to get you out of here, there's—"

Harry shifted away from Remus, "An attack, yes, I know."

Why wasn't Remus suspicious about this at all? Didn't he remember _Harry_ was supposed to be at Hogwarts, safe and protected?

"Remus—"

The werewolf just sent him a look as if saying he knew what Sirius was thinking and that whatever he was thinking was so utterly wrong. Except that maybe what he was thinking was _supposed_ to be the truth. Unless the Headmaster had declared the school year 6 months too long and suspended any more classes without Sirius knowing it.

And then suddenly, as if a snake waiting for its prey to relax, Harry flicked his wrist and ropes sprung up from behind Remus and bound him tightly and quickly, causing his body to fall backwards with a thump. Sirius was not able to do anything than twitch before he felt his body freeze up, as if cold ice suddenly wrapped around him—or maybe it was fear?

Because he remembered where he heard the description of one red eye and similar looks to Harry or, in this case, Tom Riddle. Dumbledore had shown it to the Order; the charismatic young man Voldemort had been before he went insane. The resemblance to Harry was noted but not much.

 _He had red eyes. He looked like_ Him _but younger._

Molly mentioned that before. But Sirius chose to ignore the _fucking resemblance_. It was just a resemblance.

"Hullo Sirius."

Sirius forced himself to calm down and, sure enough, his body was free of any jinx or hex, leaving him free to move around. He merely gave a snarl, grey eyes darting from Remus to his friend's captor, not knowing what to do.

"Who are you?"

But Sirius cannot deny the uncanny resemblance this boy had to his godson. Even the long, tangled hair was there. He chose to ignore he faint scar on the boy's forehead; it might have been a trick of the light.

A grin slowly stretched over the boy's mouth, exposing his white teeth, "Have you already forgotten about me, Sirius?" The gleeful look immediately vanished to be replaced with a look of sorrow that Sirius would recognize a mile away.

Sirius glared, hands clutching his wand in warning, "You're not Harry."

The grin came back tenfold and the boy jumped down from the counter and skipped his way to Remus' dazed frame. Sirius tensed but not willing to be the first to attack, he had his pride. It clearly wasn't because the boy looked so much like Harry (and he would never _ever_ hurt his godson).

"Oh, but Remus knows." The boy crouched beside Remus and lightly tugged at the man's hair. "Don't you, Remus?"

Remus blinked, green-amber eyes showing his confusion, "What do you mean?"

The boy smiled widely, "That I'm Harry."

Remus blinked again but took a sniff in the air, as if to confirm something—the scent, probably—and nodded, "You are." Then he turned to Sirius, "If you don't untie me now, Padfoot, I'll make sure Molly knows you don't take care of yourself at all."

Sirius just looked at the werewolf in disbelief. Why can't Remus see that the boy was playing with them? And how could that boy be Harry when his godson was in Hogwarts, enjoying his time with Ron and Hermione? Sure, the boy looked a _lot_ like Harry, but that doesn't mean he _is_ Harry. And Remus should know that. Remus was the most logical of them so the werewolf should realize just how the boy wasn't Harry. Unless his friend was under a curse.

Sirius turned to glare at the grinning teen, "What did you do to him?"

The boy giggled, slowly rising up, and raising Sirius' hackles even more, "How can one be so _stupid_."

Sirius growled and flung the first curse he thought of at the boy that dared to call him stupid. The long-haired boy simply dodged the curse with grace many his age didn't have.

"See, he's being stupid, Remus."

"Sirius, stop it!" Remus struggled to sit up with the ropes binding him, "Why are you trying to hurt Harry? Are you out of your mind?!"

"Can't you see it?" Sirius shot back angrily, stopping his assault to turn to his friend, "He isn't Harry! He's trying to trick us into thinking he's Harry, but he's not! Have you already forgotten the reason we're here in the first place?"

"What do you mean he's not Harry?" Remus retorted just as angrily and Sirius didn't understand why. "He's Harry! James' son, your godson, _my_ cub! I would recognize his scent miles away. You've gone off your rocker, Sirius! And we would have been able to go on to Diagon _if you just let me go!_ "

Silence settled over them as Sirius snarled quietly.

Then it was broken by a giggle that soon turned into a full-blown laugh, "Dear Merlin, who ever thought it would be this _fun_ to watch them argue."

Sirius raised his wand again, unheeding of Remus' words, but before he could utter another word, he felt his body stiffen and then he couldn't move. With a panicked look, Sirius glanced to Remus only to find the other man at the same state as he.

"Well," The boy clapped his hands delightedly, "as much fun as it is to watch the two of you fight, I want to get a move on. Sights to see just outside the passage way, you see."

Sirius felt the trickle of fear as the teenager levitated Remus' prone body on to the counter. And Sirius noticed, with great horror and fear, how the boy— _Harry_ , a small part of his mind corrected but he ignored it—had not once used a wand*. No one but Dumbledore and Voldemort were ever seen to have accomplished wandless magic, and even then, Sirius knew of how exhausting it was to try.

"Now, shall we start?"

And then Sirius felt as if he was doused by oil and lit afire. He tried to scream but found that he can't. He panicked and felt pain—pain— _pain_ —and then—everything stopped and Sirius felt like he was floating. Floating and floating, he tried to cope from the pain and he managed. He thought it would feel better after he adjusted but just found himself feel _trapped._

It was unpleasant, not at all like the Imperius Curse, but Sirius quickly found out that the effects were the same when his body moved against his own will. He can't even feel his body moving, just the air stinging his eyes as he refused to blink was the sign that he is, indeed, walking over to the teenager.

Harry pulled out a jar of _something_ from his baggy pants, "Do you know what this is?"

Sirius didn't even know how to reply as he struggled to a find a way to take control over his body back. He could feel something binding him—trapping his conscious.

"I take it you don't." Harry grinned and Sirius watched as his hands accepted the offered jar, "That's powdered silver."

Sirius was confused. Why would Harry have a jar of silver?

"Now, go to that werewolf and pour it on him, then in his mouth. Also, make sure he ingests it."

Fear settled into Sirius as he watched his body make its way to the still form of Remus. Sirius tried and tried to relinquish the control the teenager had over his body, panic, adrenalin, and fear for his dear friend fueling his attempts. None of those seemed to work, though and Sirius feared and panicked and tried valiantly to make _his_ hand drop the opened jar of silver.

Closing in on his friend, Sirius just saw the flashes of emotions— _anger, confusion, fear_ —and—Remus' eyes bled into amber as Sirius removed the lid off of the jar he was holding.

Sirius tried. He really tried, but he was slowly realizing how futile it is. So with resignation— _anger, sadness, apology_ —Sirius gathered all the Gryffindor courage he had in a last attempt at escape.

He concentrated. Searching for his magic through his feeble knowledge of occlumency, Sirius struggled.

_Where is it—where is it—shit, Remus—I need to—_

And then he found it.

Sirius felt his _magic_. And it was absolutely wonderful.

But his concentration was slipping so with as much effort as he could, Sirius gathered his magic and, not knowing what to do, blindly pushed it at the foreign _something_ that kept hold of his consciousness.

He pushed.

_It went a bit out of control but he forced it to bend to his will—_

And pushed.

_Tired—he's starting to get tired. That isn't good. But for Remus—_

And pushed.

_He's starting to—no! His magic—he could feel it slowly draining—_

And then he was free.

Sirius gasped in shock and he crumpled down on the ground with a pained cry.

He lay there, panting, as he waited for the pain to fade away. But it was taking so long and he wanted to see if Remus was fine. So, taking a deep breath, Sirius shifted so he could look for the werewolf.

Giggling resounded eerily around the otherwise silent room.

Sirius tensed and reached down his pocket for his wand, mentally sighing in relief when his hand grabbed the slim piece of wood. He sat up, ignoring the phantom pains his body was suffering through.

"I have to say," Harry clapped, grinning widely. "You have an admirable, eh, willpower."

Sirius stood up shakily, elatedly noticing that his body was exhausted and aching, using a chair to help himself up.

"Y-yeah," Sirius winced as he heard his gravelly voice. What is with his body? He can't have been affected that much. "And I'll have to guess that you don't have as much of will as I do if you admire mine."

Sirius took satisfaction over the fact that the boy lost the grin.

"Hmm," Harry was blank faced and his eyes were closed. "Admirable as it may be, but I'm afraid you took your time." And the grin was back.

Sirius, paling at the implications, looked around and saw, to his horror, the jar of powdered silver empty just beside his—

"REMUS!"

This set off another set of giggles but Sirius ignored it as he forced his body to move to Remus' side, stumbling over some of the obstacles on his path. He let himself fall down gracelessly beside the body of his friend.

Remus' face was burned by the silver and Sirius wanted to look away from the horrifying sight but he forced himself to look down.

"You know," started the devil, "it's your fault for being too slow. _You_ wouldn't have made him ingest silver if _you_ hadn't taken a long time from breaking through my control. Not to worry, though, I'm sure Remus would _blame you_ for his death. I may have prevented him from hearing things before _you_ ended his life."

Sirius wanted to shout how it wasn't true, how it wasn't his fault. His face twisted in anger and he hardly felt the tears falling from his eyes. He wanted to curse the being behind him, he wanted to take _revenge_. But he couldn't.

_It was your fault._

_It was your fault, Sirius._

He could clearly see Remus' scarred face, looking at him in anger and betrayal just beside James and Lily who looked so disappointed in him.

_It's your fault we died, Sirius. If you weren't stupid enough to—_

_You're no good as friend, padfoot—_

_And here I thought we could trust you—!_

No! No! It was Snape. Yes, it was all Snape's fault. If that sniveling, greasy git hadn't been so easy to fool, Remus wouldn't have been in this situation. See, it wasn't his fault. It was that Death Eater Snivellus. He was only doing what he thought would be a brilliant prank. And that git had hurt Lily, too, so it was all justified, right? It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. _It wasn't it wasn't itwasn'titwasn'titwasn'titwasn'titwas—_

It was his fault.

Everything.

Everything was his fault.

_Yes, Sirius. It was your fault Remus died._

_It was your fault my parents died._

Sirius unknowingly let out an animalistic howl.

"That's right, Sirius Black. Blame yourself. They all died because of you. You killed them. If only you were someone else—if only you weren't a _Black_. We all know, don't we, that the Blacks are a rotten lot? You're no different."

Sirius was sobbing and clutching his once friend's body close to him. He's right. Harry's right. And his mother was right. He was a Black. And all Blacks turned out to be a bad lot. He was the same.

"But, you know what?"

Sirius, through the haze of pain and loss and anger and _hurt_ , struggled to understand what the other was saying.

"I think there's a way for them to forgive you."

This caught his attention but he was in too _deep_.

"I may even forgive you, for everything that you did."

And, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how he knew where this would end—and it wouldn't be a good end, everyone made sure of that—hope sprung up Sirius' eyes, swimming around the pain he felt. He knew where this would end. And he knew it was also the only way for James and Lily and Remus and _Harry_ to forgive him.

"Just one spell, Sirius. You know what to do, right?"

Sirius gulped and nodded. Shakily grabbing his wand, he pointed it to himself and closed his eyes.

" _Avada Kedavra_."

And—

Nothing happened.

Sirius blinked, staring down his wand emptily. He felt hollow. He felt tired all of a sudden. It was as if all his energy was sapped out of him.

A giggle distracted him from his examinations.

"It seems we won't forgive you, Sirius. Don't you want to apologize to my parents? To Remus? To _me_? Why can't you even give your life for those you _love?_ "

"I-I-"

Sirius felt his muscles becoming heavier and heavier and his wand clattered down the floor.

"But I guess," Harry picked up the fallen wand. "You thought your magic would be enough for our forgiveness. See, Sirius, even your magic blames you; it left you alone, so appalled it is to what you did."

Sirius started to see dark spots and he knew he was close to losing his consciousness. He prayed for oblivion. He wanted to die. But even that, he was too tired to do. And maybe—maybe—

"Kill me."

"Hmm?" Harry plopped down on the floor in front of the fallen man. "Pardon?"

"Kill me, please. Now. I want to die."

There was a silent moment and Sirius could feel himself losing consciousness and hoped the Harry would deal with him while—

"I don't think so."

He felt something being pushed past his lips and liquid trickled down his throat, the hand massaging it forcing him to swallow reflexively. And he shot up straight, fire travelling around his body, forcing him to be awake. But he felt no less hollow.

"I want you to suffer, Remus does, too, just look at him. Why you thought it was a good idea to force him to eat _silver_ , I have no idea. And death would be a mercy, no? So, you see, I had this idea of turning you into my pet until I lose interest in having something following me around. Or until Voldemort got sick of looking at you, which would probably be a few hours… oh, well."

Sirius remained silent and sullen, despite the steam coming out from his ears from the pepper-up potion forced down his throat.

Harry continued to babble about anything and nothing at all and Sirius simply sat there.

His mind was blank. He had been so sure that he wanted to die. He still does, mind you, but he _can't_. His magic was gone, _drained out by his own stupidi—_ no, it was done to save Remus. A whole lot of bull that did. He has still killed his friend.

"Why?"

Sirius looked up from where he was staring at the body of Remus and stared into those green and red eyes that simply glowed with _insanity_.

Why?

Why did James die? Why did Lily die? Why Harry?

_Why did he kill Remus?_

Why did Remus die?

Again. "Why?"

He was aware he was repeating the question again and again but he could care less.

Why was he a Black?

Why was he even _alive_ when his friends, his _family_ , clearly wasn't?

"Why?" The teen before him grinned widely. "Because we're family, right? You said so yourself."

Family?

Right. Harry is still alive. His godson is still alive.

That removed a bit of the hollowness and Sirius clung to it like a lifeline. He hated the feeling of being hollow.

"Really?" Sirius' eyes shone with almost childlike innocence. "We're still family, after what I did?"

The grin on the boy's face grew wider and more sinister. "No. Not after what you did."

And Sirius felt himself shatter like broken glass.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And to Diagon Alley... we go!

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Ronald Weasley was no stranger to being unconscious—and it was the type of unwilling unconsciousness, not the " _I went to sleep therefore I'm not conscious"_  type. Who wouldn't? Between Harry and Harry— _yes_ , Harry classifies as two things; his brother in all but blood Harry and the Boy-Who-Lived Harry—unconsciousness is a regular thing, perhaps even monthly. So it was with barely a groan that he came to.

Well, that is, before he felt the pounding headache that threatened to put him back to the state of unconsciousness. That didn't deter him, though.

And so, with a groan of pain, Ron twitched his fingers before attempting to sit up and, when that failed, used his arms to support himself. And didn't that answer the question of where in Merlin's name he is.

Ron winced as his arm scraped against the rough stone floors of the hallway. Knowing that he won't be able to support his weight without looking like a fool, Ron scooted over to the wall and rested his back against it. Still not quite sure which part of the castle he is in and hoping to at least remember just what it was that made him pass out, Ron examined his surroundings only to gasp as his eyes landed on bushy brown hair sprawled on the ground just beside where he was before.

Ron almost shouted Hermione's name before the pounding headache stopped him as if even the thought of shouting was enough to set it off. So, in the end, Ron regulated his breath and forced himself to calm down. He had faced an honest to Merlin Cerberus, and he was hyperventilating like a firstie faced with Honeydukes' many sweets.

Once he got himself under control again, Ron actually tried to analyze their situation. Hey, he's a brilliant strategist, no matter what 'Mione and Harry—

_Harry!_

Ron quickly scanned the area again only to see the absence of his black haired friend— _is he, really?_ —and whipped his head around, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Harry was there and he just didn't notice. Or maybe he was not around because he went to go after whoever it is that attacked them.

Nodding, Ron pushed himself up, ignoring the now dulling headache, and went over to Hermione's side.

"Mione. Oi. Hermione, you have to wake up." Ron gently shook the witch. "Hermione!"

When the witch still didn't so much as twitch, Ron pursed his lips and looked around to see if there was anyone who could help only to find the corridor empty of people aside from him and Hermione.

Ron sighed and went back to his previous task, "Mione!"

Frowning, Ron tried again and again until he realized that, yes, he's a wizard, and yes, he has his wand in his back pocket, where Mad-eye explicitly told them not to put it in. Ron pulled it out, sending a sarcastic " _thank Merlin he didn't blow his buttocks off_ ," then pointed it at his friend, managing not to poke his eye in his haste.

" _Rennervate!"_

Ron sighed in relief when Hermione blinked her eyes open until they were staring at each other's eyes. They weren't making googly eyes at each other no matter what the others say, at least, that is what Ron thinks. He assisted the witch into a sitting position, figuring that if he woke up with a pounding headache, she had to have one too.

Hermione groaned. "Where did Hagrid hide that Hippogriff?"

Ron snickered. "I would have thought I'll be the one to say that."

Hermione blinked before focusing on Ron, wincing when it triggered the horrid ache in her head.

"Who said you didn't."

"But I didn't, and don't try moving around until that headache's gone. Nasty bugger, that."

The bushy haired witch nodded before wincing again and doing as told. It was a statement to how painful it was when the witch didn't so much as frown when he cursed or ordered her around. Ron, deciding that it would be easier if he wasn't always holding Hermione, dragged her gently over to a corner and sat down beside her.

Deciding to fill in the silence, Ron spoke, "Do you remember what happened? I think I got hit too hard by whatever it is that hit us."

Hermione grunted and Ron realized she won't be able to move properly for a bit so he decided to keep silent lest he attract the witch's ire.

And in the silence, Ron wondered. Where  _was_  Harry? If he had, indeed, gone to look for assistance, shouldn't he be there already? And where were the other students and Aurors? Sure, it was probably the middle of the day and students were in their classes, there should at least be a few out and about. Maybe they were in the Great Hall? Maybe it was already lunch time…

"D'you think it's lunch already, Mione?"

"Why don't you look at the time?" It was said irritably so Ron scrambled to obey and realized that no, it wasn't lunch time yet, and that only a few minutes had passed since their last lesson.

"What?" Ron blinked and recast the spell. "It's either we've been out cold for an incredibly short time, or someone tampered with our memories; I don't know which one I would prefer."

"I'd say it's the former." Ron looked at Hermione but the witch continued in her muttering. "The last thing I remember was Potions being cut because of an emergency, and then we—Harry! Right, where's Harry? We were with him."

Ron shook his head. "He wasn't here when I woke up. Probably went to Madam Pomfrey or other professors."

Hermione frowned before staggering up, to look out of the large window that was just behind them. Ron followed her lead confusedly, only for his eyes to widen when he processed what exactly he was seeing. And then he remembered.

Green eyes.

Green, luminous eyes that is teeming with madness.

But he didn't want to admit to what that meant, so he instead focused on the still burning village. He felt a detached sense of sorrow and anger for the life lost but his mind is still stuck and no matter how much he ignored it, the thought kept on cropping up and he can't do anything to stop it.

_Harry attacked us. He looked very delighted that Hogsmea—_

No. Stop. Harry wouldn't—

_You saw him. You saw him when he went to Edgecombe._

That could have meant  _anything!_

_And you also saw him wandering the corridors alone… covered in blood… remembered him exiting the room Cho Chang screamed and—_

"Stop!"

He didn't notice he said it out loud.

"Ron?"

Ron grit his teeth and looked into Hermione's eyes, looking for something— _anything_ —that would perhaps make him win the argument he was having inside his head. But the bushy haired witch was only looking at him in confusion. And Ron, no matter his pride, needed help in this one and he  _knew_  because the mere thought of Harry—his best mate; his brother in all but blood—doing  _those things_ … they just… they were _impossible_.

"Mione…" Ron curled his fingers into fists. "Tell me… please tell me…"

Hermione merely had that look of confusion and Ron felt his anger boiling. Hermione was the perceptive one out of all of them; she should be the one to notice it first. Ron wasn't used to any huge realizations, heck, he hadn't even made a proper, correct conclusion in all his life without the help of anyone leading him explicitly. His anger only rose and his breath started to become heavy. In his anger, Ron unknowingly raised his hand and brought it down to Hermione.

The sharp gasp brought him out of the angry haze he was in and immediately, after looking uncomprehendingly between Hermione's fallen and shocked form and his raised fist, Ron sank down beside her, muttering apologies.

But he was too angry. He wasn't used to being the one to connect the dots first. He hated the fact that it was something that was so altering and not something as simple as what was for dinner. It was a big thing and that was why it angered him so much. Angry and guilty. Guilty because he had the pieces a long time ago and he didn't put it together before it was too late. Guilty because he thought such a thing of Harry. And all that guilt made him angry.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt a sharp pain on his cheek and he belatedly registered that he was on the brink of hitting Hermione again. He let out a deep sigh and slowly put down his hand that was raised once more.

"I needed that." Ron bowed his head, more than willing to lower his pride for hitting a girl. "I'm sorry."

Ron stayed in his position of shame until he heard a muffled sob, then he looked up.

"I-I-" Hermione sobbed. "I know. I know. I wish I didn't. I- Ron- I'm- I don't know anymore. It- it—"

And with that, Ron's anger disappeared as if it wasn't even there in the first place. Awkward teenager that he is, Ron didn't know what to do but figured that, with what his mother used to do when, as a child, he cried because Fred and George stole something that was his, hugging and comforting his female friend—girlfriend, but they didn't bother with the labels just that they were together—was the socially accepted response.

Ron pursed his lips. He might not be the smartest around but he knew, now that he actually  _understood_ , that they had to face it. It would be stupid not to.

"We have to go tell Dumbledore."

Hermione tightened her hold but pulled her head away to look at his eyes and Ron was reminded of a lost puppy. "But- but this is Harry we're talking about. He can't have- I mean—he might not have control over himself."

Ron's expression softened and brushed away the tears on his friend's, girlfriend's, lover's,  _whatever's_ , cheek.

"That is exactly why we're going to Dumbledore. And maybe he already knows and have taken Harry to his office."

Hermione nodded. "Right."

Ron smiled lovingly at her before blinking. "You know, you should be the one saying those things, not me."

Chuckling, Hermione lightly swatted his head. "You're right. Don't go becoming smart, I might suspect you of hiding things from me."

"Oi," Ron scowled jokingly. "Are you implying I'm stupid?"

"I'm not." Hermione smirked. "Because you are, Ronald, no one needs to imply it."

The red-head almost pouted before grinning and standing up, offering his hand to the other in assistance. "Well, you're stuck with this stupid Ronald until I die. Mind you, I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

Hermione took the offered hand and smiled. "You aren't going Voldemort on me, are you? Red, insane eyes would clash horribly with Weasley red."

Ron puffed out his chest. "I'd rather follow Nicholas Flammel's path and for that," Ron winked at Hermione. "I would need that brilliant brain of yours."

"Oh so you only want me for my brains."

"Of course not!" Ron looked slightly miffed and slung his arm on Hermione's shoulders in a one-armed hug since they were walking. "I want you because you're Hermione."

"And if I weren't Hermione anymore?"

Ron stopped and peered at the other's eyes. "Then I'll find you and bring you back, simple as that."

Hermione looked down and continued walking, Ron following her still in the same position.

"What about Harry?"

Ron tightened his awkward half-hug. "We'll do the same. If you are willing, that is."

He felt, more than saw, Hermione nod her head and Ron felt that they could do this because they were together. Whatever is happening with Harry, they'll solve it and in no time at all, they will have their best friend back. Slightly damaged, no doubt, but that's easy to fix. They're the Golden Trio; they are practically sawn at the hip.

And so their journey to the Headmaster's office continued on in silence, both wracking their brains for answers that will never come to them. But then again, there's this silly thing called hope and both Ron and Hermione are never going to lose sight of it.

Yet the red-head felt that everything isn't right.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Albus Dumbledore knew a lot of things. Most of these things came from his experiences starting from when he was a mere boy who started at Hogwarts. He had been naïve then but now… well, he liked to believe that he wasn't. He had defeated Grindelwald, one of the most dangerous Dark Lords to have ever risen. Grindelwald. He made that mistake once and he had vowed to never do that again but it seems he has failed for a second time.

The Headmaster liked to think that he knew a lot of things.

And for a fact, he knew that it should be impossible for Tom's group to be here. Not just because Diagon Alley is perfectly protected by the Ministry, but because they were all  _supposed to be recovering from their attack on Hogsmead_. Or even just preparing for another attack. It can't be possible and, no, they weren't a different group. Heck, even Tom was present on both raids.

It was only with luck that they even arrived in Diagon Alley before the perimeter wards flared to life, inhibiting other people to enter. Looking around, Albus was thankful that he had his most powerful allies.

At first, it was silent. Eerily silent that if they didn't see the people starting to panic, they may not have noticed that anything was wrong at all. And then they almost felt themselves go deaf when the screams and explosions reached their ears.

"Albus!"

He didn't even know who it was that called him but he moved, nonetheless, just in time for him to avoid a spell. He cast his twinkling blue eyes to the direction from where the spell came from and they quickly hardened. Gone was the eccentric old man who chose to help the children and in his place stood a true leader.

He spoke, with anger, disgust, and disappointment coloring his strong voice. "Tom, what are you doing here? Was it not enough that you reduced Hogsmead into piles of rubble?"

The high-pitched cold laughter that followed sent shivers of fear to everyone, including the Headmaster, but he will be strong for the sake of others.

"You really think that I will throw my wand and beg for your forgiveness?" To—no, it's Voldemort now. Voldemort's lipless mouth curled into a mocking smirk. "I believe we are already past that,  _Headmaster._ "

It was said with such disdain that Albus had to stop himself from cringing. It  _had_  been his fault that Tom Riddle walked the path of darkness. If he had been able to assist the boy, he may have been able to stop this from happening but he had been too preoccupied by his first mistake and because of that, unknowingly, he created his second mistake. How ironic it is that it was because of him?

"We can settle this in a far more different setting, Tom."

There was a snarl and as if it was a signal, the Death Eaters continued their attack. Everyone was immediately moving, the Order members that were already in Diagon Alley helped the Aurors in protecting those who can't defend themselves and evacuating those who can defend themselves. Even Dumbledore helped in lifting rubbles off those unfortunate souls who got buried but it wasn't for long.

"Headmaster!"

Dumbledore swiveled around to search for the disturbingly familiar voice. And when he found it, his eyes widened.

"…Harry?"

Dumbledore didn't have any more time than to utter the name before he was once again accosted by another Death Eater. It was when he had finally stunned his opponent when he had to dodge another attack. This one, though, wasn't a spell, but what seemed like a knife. Dumbledore pointed his wand to the direction where it came from, a curse at the tip of his tongue when he hesitated.

It was, without a doubt, Harry Potter.

"Harry!" Dumbledore made his way over to the teenager in worry. He wasn't supposed to be there, the child should be in Hogwarts where he is protected from Tom and his Death Eaters. "What are you doing here? It is dangerous here, dear child! Is Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley with you?"

When there was no response, Dumbledore became worried and almost forgot that they were in the middle of chaos but he trusted the Order and, to some extent, the Aurors, to save the innocent people here in the Alley. This boy, this boy that he had treated as his own grandson, had protected to his utmost ability, is here. He can't be here.

Dumbledore searched his brain for a solution to this predicament. Harry cannot stay there where Voldemort could easily kill him, and Albus will be dead before that ever happens. Scanning the area, Dumbledore couldn't find a safe place to hide the boy in so he faced Harry once more, only to frown in confusion when the child opened his mouth to say something Dumbledore cannot hear.

"What are you saying, dear boy?"

Despite his panicking, Dumbledore forced himself to be calm. He won't be able to do anything if he didn't keep a level head. So it was with surprise that Dumbledore's gaze landed on Sirius Black.

"Sirius? You can't be here; the Ministry has yet to clear your name properly."

And that is correct. Sirius Black can't even be here in Diagon Alley, Order or not. He hadn't had enough time to call for the Order before they made haste to arrive here in Diagon Alley. And he knew, for sure, that the man wasn't that impulsive to go to a public area when he has yet to have his trial. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. Unless the man was the one who brought Harry here. The child couldn't have done it himself and it is more likely that Sirius went with his godson there.

"Were you the one who brought Harry here, Sirius?"

"No." "Yes."

Albus looked between the two. Both were wearing blank expressions although Sirius' were clouded with guilt and sorrow. He didn't know who he would believe but it had been too long since he became distracted and, quite irrationally, Albus felt anger at the situation. Uncharacteristic for him, Albus sent a scowl at the Black Lord.

"You can't just do what you want, Sirius!" Dumbledore gripped his wand tightly. "I was hoping that Remus would give you enough sense but it seems I was mistaken." Shaking his head, Dumbledore was at least thankful that Sirius told the truth. "But it's all in the past. You need to get Harry out of here. The wards won't allow anyone else to enter but it allows you to escape, take Harry and go!"

With that, Dumbledore pointed his wand at a cloaked wizard and tripped him on his legs when he was running after a screaming girl. It seems there are those who are taking advantage of the situation and Dumbledore shook his head. He almost stepped away from Harry when he felt the boy tug at his sleeve. Feeling more concerned than curious, Dumbledore looked down slightly to the boy.

"You can't just leave, Headmaster."

Dumbledore frowned and reached out to touch Harry's shoulder when the boy smacked his hand away with a snarl.

"Don't touch me!"

"Harry, my boy?"

But there was no response. Dumbledore hunched down to be level with Harry's eyes. Again, Dumbledore was concerned for his young charge when suddenly, green eyes lit up with childish glee at something behind Dumbledore. Curious, he looked behind him, only to spring to action, angling himself so Harry was covered by his body.

"Sirius, take Harry and go, now!  _Confringo!_ "

Voldemort easily deflected the spell into a building not far from them. "My, my, aggressive, aren't we?"

"You have no right to say that, Tom. You won't be able to touch Harry unless I'm dead, I owe him and his parents that much."

"Do you?" Voldemort had an expression of amusement that looked so foreign on his snake-like face. "Let's go, Harry, you lost your playtime when you decided to instead go to Dumbledore."

Dumbledore almost jumped at the response coming from behind him.

"Aww… c'mon Voldy, I can at least have a minute… right?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No. And if you're going to continue that tirade, you aren't going to the next raid."

Dumbledore had long since stepped back and stared at Harry in confusion. What was happening? Why was Black not reacting at all?

"Oh, alright. But what are we going to do to him?" Harry gestured to Dumbledore who looked at a loss to himself.

"It certainly is too early for him to die…"

"Okay!" It was said so brightly that Dumbledore almost winced but held his ground. He looked between the three, noting how Harry looked a lot less like the Harry he was used to seeing and more of—

He almost gasped when he caught sight of the not so green eye on the teen.

"H-Harry…" Dumbledore whispered. "What did you do?"

A maniacal grin was his answer and before he knew it, Dumbledore's world became black.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

As soon as he felt his consciousness return, Dumbledore shot up, blue eyes alert to any threats.

"Albus! If you don't lie back down, Headmaster or not, I'll tie you to that bed."

With confusion, Dumbledore took stock of his surroundings, noting the white stone walls, uncanny amount of beds, and the smell of antiseptic in the air. It had always been a question in his mind why the air in the infirmary would smell like antiseptic when they don't use it at all. Relaxing slowly, Dumbledore let himself be lied down once more on the bed he was sitting on.

"Ah, Poppy, I find myself at a loss… If I remember correctly, I was in Diagon Alley… how have I ended up here in your humble care?"

The witch sighed and bustled around, satisfied that her patient isn't going anywhere but on that bed. "Fillius and Horace brought you here approximately three hours before. They said St. Mungo's was full so they brought you here, and if you're wondering, they're both fine, minor curses that have simple countercurses were their only injury."

Madam Pomfrey sighed once more. "The Aurors on the other hand… only a few returned, all with injuries of some kind but they're fine… the other few though… they were all sent to St. Mungo's after I patched them up enough to lengthen their chance of survival."

"And what of the students?"

"They all stayed within the castle… thank Merlin for that. Although, Ms. Granger and the youngest Mr. Weasley went to find you earlier… something about Mr. Potter not being around. Do you know anything, Albus?"

"Ah," Dumbledore faltered, not knowing what to say. Would he tell the truth? But it was a horrifying one and he doubted anyone would believe him. Even he, himself, had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. So he settled with his answer, "I'm afraid not."

All sounds of movement stopped before resuming back. "I'm not stupid, Albus. I know very much that there is something wrong with Mr. Potter. For once, Albus, tell me the truth, I'm not your student anymore."

Dumbledore remained silent and things remained that way for a while.

After what seemed like a long time, Dumbledore opened his mouth. "I don't know, Poppy. I don't know what's going on anymore."

"Perhaps you wouldn't," It was barely above a whisper but Dumbledore heard it clearly. "Why do you prefer to be willfully blind and deaf, Albus? Is your obsession to avoid another mistake made you so ignorant of certain things that you fail to notice that you are making another mistake? Life isn't about not making mistakes, Albus, you have to understand that."

Unknown to him, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and was gazing at it absently.

"I do," Dumbledore caressed his wand made of elder. "I do try to understand that, Poppy."

The witch stopped her bustling and slowly made her way to the older wizard, pulling a chair for her to sit on. "Then why? Why won't you succeed?"

Dumbledore let himself be vulnerable under the sharp gaze of the witch. She was one of his most trusted, Minerva aside. They had known each other for a long time that they knew most of each other. Clutching his eyes shut, Dumbledore handed his wand over to the witch who took it with utmost care, knowing how important a wand is to a witch or wizard.

Sighing tiredly, Dumbledore sat up on the bed. "I do not know. It might have been because of Gellert. I vowed to myself that I will never commit such a mistake but I did. I was a naïve child and Gellert took advantage of that. Tell me, do you know of the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

"Of course."

Dumbledore remained silent and cast his sorrowful gaze to the witch and then to the wand she is holding.

It took a moment but the witch got what he was implying. "I see."

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded and closed his eyes. "That was what we seek. Gellert wanted to be the Master of Death and I followed him. It was my mistake, you realize, that Gellert started to seek power. I was the one who found the Wand first and when I did, I told Gellert, but he was far into the darkness that power contains. And it was then, when I saw the greed in his eyes, that I realized how wrong it was of me to have supported him.

"I could have led him away from the pull of power but I almost lost sight of who I am and I had focus on that. And now, I thought, it could have turned out differently if only I made more effort to help. But I failed and did it again for a second time when I tried to solve my first mistake…"

Madam Pomfrey handed the wand back to its owner. "And now you feel like you created a third while you were solving the second."

"Yes."

Silence settled between them once more.

"I think you really did lose sight of yourself, Albus."

Dumbledore shifted. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I mean, Albus." Madam Pomfrey stood up. "You lost sight of yourself and never quite got it back together. Why don't you use your time here to think on that? I haven't told anyone that you are awake yet."

And with that, Dumbledore was left to ponder as the witch went to make tea.

Where had he gone wrong? He knew it was his naivety that gave Gellert his chance, negligence on his part when young Tom needed guidance. What could he have done to Harry for him to turn his back on him? He made his decisions on the boy for his own good and no matter what the boy said, Petunia could not have done that to the boy. Dumbledore believed that, in his experience, people can change no matter how horrible they were at the beginning. He tried not to let first impressions affect him and that is exactly what he did. So, where had things gone wrong?

"Poppy," Dumbledore called out softly. "It seems that I am at a loss. What have I done for things to become wrong?"

Madam Pomfrey's expression softened as she set the tea down on the bedside table.

Out of pity—and nothing else—she decided to give the old Headmaster the answer. "You focused too much, Albus. You could have let the boy thrive without your meddlesome attitude. You could have let everything go into its own course and left everything alone."

"But the prophecy—"

"I bloody hell know about the prophecy!" Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath to calm herself and took a sip of her tea. "Prophecies weren't meant to be heard, just take the Greeks for example. All prophecies aren't set in stone unless some idiot hears it and believes it. Haven't you ever wondered why muggles have at least a year of peace before anything happens again? They don't do anything to prevent or fulfill outright a prediction."

The Headmaster opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the witch.

"It was because of your naivety and negligence this happened, Albus, there's nothing more I can say. Now, I believe you have your duties?"

Dumbledore nodded absently, hand still holding his wand then he stood up. "I- yes, I believe I do. I thank you for your services, Poppy."

Madam Pomfrey watched as the Headmaster exited the room, cup of tea forgotten. She basked in the silence, staring off into the distance, fingers fiddling with the cup.

Outside, the sky darkened until only the moon and stars illuminated the dark room, the witch not making any move.

"It's not like we can do anything…" She barely noticed that she was clutching her cup tightly. "We're signing our death sentences as we speak. That child has long since forgotten how to forgive…"

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::


	11. The "supposed" Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah... ahahaha? *nervously ruffles hair* I forgot to post it here... again? Honestly, I'm in the middle of a semestral end rush (read: We've got a serious stack of shit to do, which just happens to involve a damned baby thesis) and our school managed to procure a teacher just a tiny bit better than Umbridge. Case in point, I have been neglecting writing fanfiction in favor of gods be damned research and nervous breakdowns (I've had, like, at least three just this month).

“I want a jar of cherries.”

“Pardon?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “A jar of cherries, Voldy, you know, those red little berries that look like blueberries except that they’re red? I want some.”

The snake-like man sighed in response. If he didn’t answer verbally, the teenager would most probably do his utter best to make him. “I am aware what cherries are, Harry, why would you want one?”

“Some. I want _some_ , like, a whole jar of it.”

“When did you start having cravings?” Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow. “I don’t think you have an excuse to have cravings.”

Harry pouted up at the man. “I do.”

“You’re not pregnant.” It was Voldemort’s turn to roll his eyes. “In fact, you don’t have the correct biology to be pregnant.”

“Mama Nagi does.”

“And what does _that_ have to do to you?”

“She’s my mother.”

“So is Bellatrix.”

“Yeah.”

Voldemort smirked in satisfaction when Harry fell to silence. He enjoyed a few minutes of blissful silence before it was broken by a frustrated growl. He watched in amusement as the teen stalked out of the room in a way that only teenagers can do. Usually, if someone does that in his presence, pretty green lights would be zooming out of his wand but the fact that there _isn’t a single curse uttered_ was surprising. Surprising in a way that he isn’t sure whether it did good things to his temper or not. Probably the latter.

A glance at the open door made him sigh fondly. Lord Voldemort possesses a nefarious temper that usually had all of the Death Eaters at the other end of his wand tremble in fear. Or sometimes pleasure. There were simply those who enjoys danger far _too much_ and those probably would have him recoiling in disgust if he weren’t so detached with his emotions.

Voldemort, for the record, hated the feeling of being threatened. It was a large part of why he turned out the way he is, there were just too many things that could go wrong that would lead to his death. He is a selfish person, sometimes bordering on possessive and obsessive, simply because he does not like anyone ever threatening him or what is his.

And Harry is both. Harry is his simply for the fact that Harry bears his mark, and Harry is him because of the presence of the Horcrux. Naturally, Harry is to be protected and cherished at all costs. It was amazing, how much he feels for the boy. A being that is _his_ and _is_ _him_. An impossibility, someone who shouldn’t exist, highly improbable, _and the most precious thing in the world_.

Voldemort would be lying if he said that he _wants_ Harry because the boy _is his and shouldn’t be anywhere outside his care_. The simple thought of the boy walking out of his sphere of influence was enough to make him fly at a rage, sending about a fourth of his Death Eaters to the medical bay Harry had thought to place in a spare room with the help of Rabastan Lestrange. More than that, sadistic bastard that he is, when Harry went back to Hogwarts, his followers suffered. The potion stock of the small medical bay needed to be refilled at least twice a day.

He had been tempted to simply storm into Hogwarts and make a slaughter house out of it if it meant Harry would be back. And yes, maybe the change of his attitude was due to the extended absence of the boy. The absence was like gasoline to the fire and it made him irrational. In his decisions, not in his behavior, because he is sure Harry would notice it and would probably act negatively to sudden change.

He was pulled out from his reverie when the opened door hit the wall in a loud bang. Already used to such occurrences, Voldemort merely glanced up from the parchment that was nearly torn in half with how tightly he was holding it.

“Let’s go to Hogsmeade!”

Voldemort groaned. “ _No._ That place is up in flames already.”

“But I wanna go to Zonko’s,” Harry sulked.

“Bellatrix! Tie Harry up in his room, would you?”

Sometimes Voldemort wonders just _why_ he felt that way to Harry.

_Of all people…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you, hopefully, during sem break! Oh, yeah, and this chapter really was supposed to be the original chapter 11 but I lost my USB and then I found this document in a very hidden file in my laptop....


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts... again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BAAACKKKK... and this thing is finished. How sad.

_Harry_

**_Tom_ **

“Speaking”

“ _Spells”_

_::Parseltongue::_

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

It was strange, feeling this sense of… _freedom_. He had spent many years locked up, unable to be _himself_. Burdened by fear, rage, and _the madness that burned deep within_.

And in this singular, quiet moment where even Tommy remained still and silent, Harry felt out of his depth.

Padfoot was asleep, curled up in a dark corner of the room. The manor was silent, Voldemort gone to lead his followers in the Ministry. How they managed to get a hold of _that_ many time-turners, Harry wasn’t sure—and that opened up quite a few doors for his excitable urges—but it was useful. At this moment, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade are being repaired at the same time as Voldemort and his Corpse Munchers are attacking the Ministry though apparently it was already done.

Wow. That gave him a headache.

Harry sighed, flopping down on the carpeted floor.

It was odd, the feeling of… _hollowness_. Maybe it was just sinking in that he was finally free? That his relatives were dead, that the Order was being cut down, that the Wizarding World is being brought down to its knees.

No. Maybe it was longing.

A longing to see them all _suffer_ as he did, feel the _loss_ that he did, to let them see how mad _and ugly and beautiful this world is_.

Maybe it was just nothing. He wasn’t the sanest bloke out there.

**_Harry?_ **

_Hmm?_

**_It’s time_**.

Everything stilled.

A grin stretched over his lips and he jumped up in excitement.

“They’re all _going down_.”

He ignored the feeling of foreboding that tickled his senses.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

He was still grinning as he approached the large doors, humming under his breath. He could hear the noise of hundreds of students and excitement filled him. Just beyond that laid _their_ last goal. Albus Dumbledore. And then the Wizarding World would bow down as Vodlemort’s feet like the sheep that they are.

Harry caressed the stone door, laughing at the wards erected over it, Hogwarts’ ancient magic holding it together and preventing him from entering. She can’t keep him out of the grounds, of course, because he’s still a student.

Too bad he’d already prepared for that. It was _so easy_.

Slicing his thumb, he carefully drew _Hagalaz_ with his blood, finishing the runic chain he spent _weeks_ engraving in every corner of Hogwarts. Quickly casting a drying charm on the drawn rune to prevent it from being deformed by dripping blood, Harry took a deep breath.

Voldemort and his most loyal were just outside the wards, waiting for him to finish.

And then with a flick of his wand, the wards _burned_.

He threw open the stone doors with a cackle, preparing himself from any attack. Shocked and frightened eyes of the students greeted him, the burning of the wards a near physical thing they all felt.

“Hullo all!” Harry greeted loudly, smile more than a bit unhinged. He could see what was left of the Order near the staff table, wands at the ready. He couldn’t take them all, no, Harry wasn’t that powerful or skilled.

Soon enough, Voldemort and his entourage made a dramatic entrance, black smoke engulfing their flying forms. It was impossible to mistake the high-pitched, ugly laugh that echoed through the silent hall.

“Professors,” Dumbledore’s eerily calm and yet alarmed voice called attention. “Kindly escort the students out.”

“I don’t think so, Albus,” Voldemort responded, walking towards the front as soon as he landed.

“ _Voldemort_ ,” was the headmaster’s venomous reply.

Then everything descended into chaos as the fearful children tried to escape. The Death Munchers around him blocked the exits, showing no discrimination as to how they would prevent the children’s escape. Harry joined in, leaving Voldemort and Dumbledore to their baiting.

Soon, pain filled screams joined the noise, as did the delightful laughs of the more sadistic Munchers—needless to say, both Harry and Bellatrix were the loudest. It was surprising to see that no one is using the Killing Curse yet.

The more level-headed professors began gathering as much students as they could, giving them hastily made portkeys and activating them.

Harry narrowed his eyes at this. “Lestrange!” Both Lestrange brothers turned to look at him and he pointed at Professor Flitwick who had just given a group of three students a portkey. Rabastan nodded and swiftly made his way out of the hall. Rodolphus sent a spell just before the group disappeared, knocking off Professor Flitwick with the explosion it created.

It would take a few minutes to erect the necessary wards to prevent escape but now that it had come to others’ attention, some of the Corpse Munchers kept an eye out on congregated groups.

**_Congregated. I’m glad to see your vocabulary increasing, Harry._ **

Harry wrinkled his nose. _Shut up Tommy._

**_Yes, yes._ **

“HARRY!”

He whipped around, turning to where the shout of his name came from. He adjusted his balance just in time as a bushy brown haired missile landed on him.

Hermione Granger.

He almost forgot about his supposed best friends.

“We need to get you out of here,” She said this all in one breath, eyes darting from left and right. It was ridiculous—no Death Nipper would dare fire a spell near him. He liked explosive retributions after all. “The staff entrance has been protected against anyone with the Dark Mark.”

Harry allowed her to tug him along, weaving through the crowd. Some of the students finally remembered they could use magic and was starting to fight back, the older ones protecting the first years and directing them out of harm’s way.

“Where’s Ron?” He finally asked as they stopped, a _Protego_ shielding them from stray spells.

When Hermione faced him, her face was twisted in some mixture of emotion Harry can’t recognize. Then she blinked and looked around frantically. Her eyes stopped somewhere in the middle of the Great Hall.

“He’s there _somewhere_ ,” Her voice was trembling now, all courage drowned as she looked around, dragging him with her. “He was just following me! _Ron!_ ”

They were once again in the thicker parts of the crowd, side stepping fallen and bleeding bodies. Hermione’s sight never strayed down, afraid of looking at glassy, vacant eyes, small bodies missing limbs, _children crying in pain as they tried to—_

Ron. She needed to find Ron. Harry was there, helpful in defense and _not crazy_. Some part of her registered this but she had to keep all emotions in check. Later, maybe, she’d mourn for every single life stolen, but for now she had to keep her head straight and help students to flee.

But her worry for Ron was at the forefront of her mind.

“ _Ron!_ ” Her eyes darted around the sea of bodies and lights—vaguely, she saw the duel happening between Dumbledore and Voldemort—in hopes of a glimpse of red. She was pulled out of the way as a sickly yellow curse flew in her direction.

“Hermione!” It was Ron, his face flushed and an arm limp. “Thank Merlin you’re okay! The D.A. are helping the other students escape. Neville’s down.”

“What—”

She was cut off as the redhead crumpled to the ground.

Harry watched in amusement, having finally been fed-up with their annoying tendencies. Hermione dove down, almost slipping on the puddle of blood coming from the convulsing body a few inches away from them. And— _oh,_ was that Draco Malfoy? Lucius is going to be so _pissed_. Harry sent an _episkey_ just so he can say he did _something_.

 ** _How kind of you_**.

Harry twitched but didn’t react any more.

His attention went back down to Hermione, a _Protego Tholus_ keeping spells away. She was crying now, body curled over the still and dead figure of Ron Weasley. An emotion stirred at his gut. _Guilt_? No, he had never felt guilty before. _Regret?_ What did he have to regret? Maybe it was pity. Pity for the collateral damage. Ron and Hermione had never been in his List.

Whatever it was— _whatever it is, it felt unfamiliar—_ made Harry raise his wand, “ _Avada Kedavra_.”

He let the shield fall, never noticing the green light headed his way.

He did, however, hear his name.

**_Harry!_ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

His movement faltered, red eyes widening as he watched the green light— _the Killing Curse that came from his own wand_ —rush through the short distance between him and Harry.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…_

“ _Harry!_ ”

It wasn’t him who shouted though. Dumbledore did, the two most powerful wizards in the room halting in their duel.

… _and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…_

And when Harry— _his Harry_ —crumpled to the ground, Voldemort was there.

_…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…_

Everything was silent, Voldemort couldn’t hear anything beyond his pulse. And when he touched Harry, he still couldn’t feel anything but his own pulse. He brushed a hand on the scar on his Harry’s forehead, _his_ mark. Differently colored eyes stared at him blankly and he was filled with rage.

_…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

He looked up to the horrified stares and snarled.

_They will all die._

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

When Harry came to, he was blinded by white.

And then he realized he was very naked and that his head ached.

He made a surprised sound as he was suddenly clothed, head whipping around hall that steadily shrank.

“Hello?”

His voice echoed and his surroundings became darker and smaller until he stood in the middle of the hallway in the Riddle Manor.

“Hello?” Harry tried again, trying not to be weirded out by what is happening. “Mama Bella? Mama Nagi? _Voldy?_ ”

_Tommy?_

None. No answer. He tried to open one of the doors but found it locked. Getting frustrated, Harry tried every door in the hallway, finding them all locked again. He trudged the path to the staircase, his surroundings growing darker and darker the further he walked.

He was going to head to the east wing where his room was located only to hear a creak. He turned his head, listening attentively to find out where it came from, but the sound didn’t repeat itself. He turned back on his set path only to shrug and change his mind.

“If I were trying to find anyone, they won’t be in _my_ room.”

Harry nodded at his logic and walked along the hallway leading to the west wing, trying to open doors as he went.

Then he came to a stop at the door leading to Voldemort’s study. It was innocuous, unassuming and looked a lot like any other door in the manor. Turning the doorknob, expecting it to be locked just like the other rooms, Harry was surprised it opened.

He stepped in. It was very, very dark but no one was there.

The door behind him clicked shut and he jumped.

“Harry.”

The voice was very, _very_ familiar and the face that greeted him was only slightly familiar from disjointed memories.

“ _Tommy_ ,” Harry managed to say, taking a step closer to his guardian/mentor/friend.

Tommy frowned, “I really wish you came up with a better name than that.”

“But you’re _Tommy_ ,” Harry grinned. “ _You’re_ my Tommy.”

“Of course I am,” Tommy sighed, his face—managing to be half Voldemort, half Tom Riddle—twisted into a fond grimace. “Brat.”

Harry continued smiling at the man before it was wiped away into narrowed eyes. “Why am I here?”

“Oh, getting to the point already,” Tommy strode over to Voldemort’s chair and signaled him to sit on his own chair. Harry did. Sit, that is, on the floor like he preferred to. “To put it simply, you died.”

Harry blinked. “I…died?”

“Yes,” Tommy sipped at his tea—wait, how did Tommy get a cup of tea? “Dumbledore—spritely old man that he is—managed to dodge Voldemort’s Killing Curse.”

“And I happened to be in its way,” Harry finished with a frown. At Tommy’s nod, Harry continued. “What happens now?”

“Well, you wake up of course.”

“What?” Harry blinks. “Come again?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “You wake up. Voldemort is wreaking havoc by now, someone should stop him before he manages to destroy Isles.”

“…okay.” Harry trailed off. “And how do I do that?”

“Just say goodbye to me.” Tommy said with a smirk.

Harry stared at the man, confused.

“Come on Harry,” Tommy encouraged, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Just say it. Don’t you want to be with Voldemort?”

Maybe it was the way Tommy said it, or the way Harry felt the tension in the air, or just plain impulse. Harry jumped up and engulfed the man in a hug.

“ _Goodbye, Tommy_.”

And it really felt like a goodbye.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry gasped awake, tears falling from his eyes as he felt an enormous sense of _loss_.

_Tommy?_

There was no answer. No presence of another consciousness. No _Tommy_.

“ _Tommy?_ ” Harry curled into himself, unaware of anything but the feeling of being _broken_. “ _Tommy? Where—wherewherewhereareyou—”_

He didn’t know that Voldemort was holding him. Didn’t know that every single living being in Hogwarts was dead but for the being that destroyed it.

Didn’t know that Voldemort clutched him close, killed every single one of them for him.

And Voldemort stared into dazed, lost green eyes, shock and surprise consumed by relief and rage.

 _The world will burn for him_.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**_End._ **

**For real, this time.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest. I never envisioned this fic to have a happy ending so... 
> 
> Thank you everyone who stuck through this crazy-stick-up-her-arse author who placed this story in a hiatus only to update and finish it with one chapter.
> 
> Sineluce Velius-Tristitia signing out.


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